STORIES   FROM  AMERICAN  HISTORY 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NBW  YORK  •    BOSTON   •   CHICAGO 
ATLANTA  •    SAN   FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LIMITED 

LONDON  •    BOMBAY  •    CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


THE 
LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 


BY 
FREDERIC  LOGAN  PAXSON 

JUNIOR    PROFESSOR     OF    AMERICAN    HISTORY 
IN    THE   UNIVERSITY  OF    MICHIGAN 


ILLUSTRATED 


ff  otft 
THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1911 

All  rights  reserved 


P34 


COPYRIGHT,  1910, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  clectrotyped.     Published  February,  1910.     Reprinted 
January,  ign. 


J.  8.  Cushing  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


EMY   OF 
1C  COAST 
3TOHY 


PREFACE 

I  HAVE  told  here  the  story  of  the  last  frontier 
within  the  United  States,  trying  at  once  to  preserve 
the  picturesque  atmosphere  which  has  given  to  the 
"Far  West "  a  definite  and  well-understood  mean- 
ing, and  to  indicate  those  forces  which  have  shaped 
the  history  of  the  country  beyond  the  Mississippi. 
In  doing  it  I  have  had  to  rely  largely  upon  my  own 
investigations  among  sources  little  used  and  rela- 
tively inaccessible.  The  exact  citations  of  authority, 
with  which  I  might  have  crowded  my  pages,  would 
have  been  out  of  place  in  a  book  not  primarily  in- 
tended for  the  use  of  scholars.  But  I  hope,  before 
many  years,  to  exploit  in  a  larger  and  more  elabo- 
rate form  the  mass  of  detailed  information  upon 
which  this  sketch  is  based. 

My  greatest  debts  are  to  the  owners  of  the  origi- 
nals from  which  the  illustrations  for  this  book  have 
been  made;  to  Claude  H.  Van  Tyne,  who  has  re- 
peatedly aided  me  with  his  friendly  criticism;  and 
to  my  wife,  whose  careful  readings  have  saved  me 
from  many  blunders  in  my  text. 

EEEDEEIC  L.  PAXSON. 

ANN  ARBOK,  August  7,  1909. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I 

PAGE 

THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT 1 

CHAPTER  II 
THE  INDIAN  FRONTIER 14 

CHAPTER  III 

IOWA   AND   THE   NEW  NORTHWEST 33 

CHAPTER  IV 
THE  SANTA  FE  TRAIL 53 

CHAPTER  V 
THE  OREGON  TRAIL 70 

CHAPTER  VI 
OVERLAND  WITH  THE  MORMONS 86 

CHAPTER  VII 
CALIFORNIA  AND  THE  FORTY-NINERS 104 

CHAPTER  VIII 
KANSAS  AND  THE  INDIAN  FRONTIER 119 

CHAPTER  IX 

"PIKE'S  PEAK  OR  BUST!" 138 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  X 

PAGB 

FROM  ARIZONA  TO  MONTANA 156 

CHAPTER  XI 
THE  OVERLAND  MAIL 174 

CHAPTER  XII 
THE  ENGINEERS'  FRONTIER 192 

CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  UNION  PACIFIC  RAILROAD    ......    211 

CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  PLAINS  IN  THE  CIVIL  WAR 225 

CHAPTER  XV 
THE  CHEYENNE  WAR 243 

CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  Sioux  WAR 264 

CHAPTER  XVII 
THE  PEACE  COMMISSION  AND  THE  OPEN  WAY  .        .        .    284 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
BLACK  KETTLE'S  LAST  RAID         ......    304 

CHAPTER  XIX 
THE  FIRST  OF  THE  RAILWAYS 324 

CHAPTER  XX 
THE  NEW  INDIAN  POLICY  340 


CONTENTS  ix 

CHAPTER  XXI 

PAGE 

THE  LAST  STAND:   CHIEF  JOSEPH  AND  SITTING  BULL      .    358 

CHAPTER  XXII 
LETTING  IN  THE  POPULATION 372 

CHAPTER  XXIII 
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE 387 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


THE  PRAIRIE  SCHOONER Frontispiece 


PAGE 


MAP:   INDIAN   COUNTRY  AND   AGRICULTURAL   FRONTIER, 

1840-1841 22 

CHIEF  KEOKUK        . facing  30 

IOWA  SOD  PLOW.     (From  a  Cut  belonging  to  the  Historical 

Department  of  Iowa.) 46 

MAP:  OVERLAND  TRAILS 57 

FORT  LARAMIE,  1842 facing  78 

MAP:   THE  WEST  IN  1849 120 

MAP:   THE  WEST  IN  1854 140 

"Ho  FOR  THE  YELLOW  STONE"    ....       facing  144 

THE  MINING  CAMP "158 

FORT  SNELLING "  204 

RED  CLOUD  AND  PROFESSOR  MARSH    .        .        .            "  274 

MAP:   THE  WEST  IN  1863 300 

POSITION  OF  RENO  ON  THE  LITTLE  BIG  HORN   .       facing  360 

MAP:   THE  PACIFIC  RAILROADS,  1884  .....  380 


THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRQNTIER 
CHAPTER  I 

\ 

THE   WESTWARD   MOVEMENT      x 

THE  story  of  the  United  States  is  that  of  a  series 
of  frontiers  which  the  hand  of  man  has  reclaimed 
from  nature  and  the  savage,  and  which  courage  and 
foresight  have  gradually  transformed  from  desert 
waste  to  virile  commonwealth.  It  is  the  story  of 
one  long  struggle,  fought  over  different  lands  and  by 
different  generations,  yet  ever  repeating  the  condi- 
tions and  episodes  of  the  last  period  in  the  next. 
The  winning  of  the  first  frontier  established  in 
America  its  first  white  settlements.  Later,  struggles 
added  the  frontiers  of  the  Alleghanies  and  the  Ohio, 
of  the  Mississippi  and  the  Missouri.  The  winning 
of  the  last  frontier  completed  the  conquest  of  the 
continent. 

The  greatest  of  American  problems  has  been  the 
problem  of  the  West.  For  four  centuries  after  the 
discovery  there  existed  here  vast  areas  of  fertile 
lands  which  beckoned  to  the  colonist  and  invited 
him  to  migration.  On  the  boundary  between  the 
settlements  and  the  wilderness  stretched  an  indefinite 
line  that  advanced  westward  from  year  to  year. 


2  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Hardy  pioneers  were  ever  to  be  found  ahead  of  it, 
blazing  the  trails  and  clearing  in  the  valleys.  The 
advance  line  of  the  farmsteads  was  never  far  behind 
it.  And  out  of  this  shifting  frontier  between  man 
and  nature  have  come  the  problems  that  have  occu- 
pied and  directed  American  governments  since  their 
beginning,  as  well  as  the  men  who  have  solved  them. 
The  portion  of  the  population  residing  in  the  frontier 
has  always  been  insignificant  in  number,  yet  it  has 
well-nigh  controlled  the  nation.  The  dominant  prob- 
lems in  politics  and  morals,  in  economic  develop- 
ment and  social  organization,  have  in  most  instances 
originated  near  the  frontier  or  been  precipitated  by 
some  shifting  of  the  frontier  interest. 

The  controlling  influence  of  the  frontier  in  shaping 
American  problems  has  been  possible  because  of  the 
construction  of  civilized  governments  in  a  new  area, 
unhampered  by  institutions  of  the  past  or  conserva- 
tive prejudices  of  the  present.  Each  common- 
wealth has  built  from  the  foundation.  An  institu- 
tion, to  exist,  has  had  to  justify  itself  again  and  again. 
No  force  of  tradition  has  kept  the  outlawed  fact 
alive.  The  settled  lands  behind  have  in  each  genera- 
tion been  forced  to  remodel  their  older  selves  upon 
the  newer  growths  beyond. 

Individuals  as  well  as  problems  have  emerged 
from  the  line  of  the  frontier  as  it  has  advanced  across 
a  continent.  In  the  conflict  with  the  wilderness, 
birth,  education,  wealth,  and  social  standing  have 
counted  for  little  in  comparison  with  strength,  vigor, 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  3 

and  aggressive  courage.  The  life  there  has  always 
been  hard,  killing  off  the  weaklings  or  driving  them 
back  to  the  settlements,  and  leaving  as  a  result  a 
picked  population  not  noteworthy  for  its  culture  or 
its  refinements,  but  eminent  in  qualities  of  positive 
force  for  good  or  bad.  The  bad  man  has  been  quite 
as  typical  of  the  frontier  as  the  hero,  but  both  have 
possessed  its  dominant  virtues  of  self-confidence, 
vigor,  and  initiative.  Thus  it  has  been  that  the 
men  of  the  frontiers  have  exerted  an  influence  upon 
national  affairs  far  out  of  proportion  to  their  strength 
in  numbers. 

The  influence  of  the  frontier  has  been  the  strongest 
single  factor  in  American  history,  exerting  its  power 
from  the  first  days  of  the  earliest  settlements  down 
to  the  last  years  of  the  nineteenth  century,  when  the 
frontier  left  the  map.  No  other  force  has  been  con- 
tinuous in  its  influence  throughout  four  centuries. 
Men  still  live  whose  characters  have  developed  under 
its  pressure.  The  colonists  of  New  England  were 
not  too  early  for  its  shaping. 

The  earliest  American  frontier  was  in  fact  a 
European  frontier,  separated  by  an  ocean  from  the 
life  at  home  and  meeting  a  wilderness  in  every  exten- 
sion. English  commercial  interests,  stimulated  by 
the  successes  of  Spain  and  Portugal,  began  the  or- 
ganization of  corporations  and  the  planting  of  trad- 
ing depots  before  the  sixteenth  century  ended.  The 
accident  that  the  Atlantic  seaboard  had  no  exploit- 
able products  at  once  made  the  American  commercial 


4  THE  LAST   AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

trading  company  of  little  profit  and  translated  its 
depots  into  resident  colonies.  The  first  instalments 
of  colonists  had  little  intention  to  turn  pioneer,  but 
when  religious  and  political  quarrels  in  the  mother 
country  made  merry  England  a  melancholy  place 
for  Puritans,  a  motive  was  born  which  produced  a 
generation  of  voluntary  frontiersmen.  Their  scat- 
tered outposts  made  a  line  of  contact  between  Eng- 
land and  the  American  wilderness  which  by  1700 
extended  along  the  Atlantic  from  Maine  to  Carolina. 
Until  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  the 
frontier  kept  within  striking  distance  of  the  sea. 
Its  course  of  advance  was  then,  as  always,  deter- 
mined by  nature  and  geographic  fact.  Pioneers 
followed  the  line  of  least  resistance.  The  river 
valley  was  the  natural  communicating  link,  since 
along  its  waters  the  vessel  could  be  advanced,  while 
along  its  banks  rough  trails  could  most  easily  de- 
velop into  highways.  The  extent  and  distribution 
of  this  colonial  frontier  was  determined  by  the 
contour  of  the  seaboard  along  which  it  lay. 

Running  into  the  sea,  with  courses  nearly  parallel, 
the  Atlantic  rivers  kept  the  colonies  separated. 
Each  colony  met  its  own  problems  in  its  own  way. 
England  was  quite  as  accessible  as  some  of  the 
neighboring  colonies.  No  natural  routes  invited 
communication  among  the  settlements,  and  an 
English  policy  deliberately  discouraged  attempts 
on  the  part  of  man  to  bring  the  colonies  together. 
Hence  it  was  that  the  various  settlements  developed 


THE   WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  5 

as  island  frontiers,  touching  the  river  mouths,  not 
advancing  much  along  the  shore  line,  but  penetrat- 
ing into  the  country  as  far  as  the  rivers  themselves 
offered  easy  access. 

For  varying  distances,  all  the  important  rivers 
of  the  seaboard  are  navigable;  but  all  are  broken  by 
falls  at  the  points  where  they  emerge  upon  the  level 
plains  of  the  coast  from  the  hilly  courses  of  the  foot- 
hills of  the  Appalachians.  Connecting  these  various 
waterfalls  a  line  can  be  drawn  roughly  parallel  to 
the  coast  and  marking  at  once  the  western  limit  of 
the  earliest  colonies  and  the  line  of  the  second 
frontier.  The  first  frontier  was  the  seacoast  itself. 
The  second  was  reached  at  the  falls  line  shortly 
after  1700. 

Within  these  island  colonies  of  the  first  frontier 
American  life  began.  English  institutions  were 
transplanted  in  the  new  soil  and  shaped  in  growth 
by  the  quality  of  their  nourishment.  They  came 
to  meet  the  needs  of  their  dependent  populations, 
but  they  ceased  to  be  English  in  the  process.  The 
facts  of  similarity  among  the  institutions  of  Massa- 
chusetts and  Pennsylvania,  or  Virginia,  or  Georgia, 
point  clearly  to  the  similar  stocks  of  ideas  imported 
with  the  colonists,  and  the  similar  problems  attend- 
ing upon  the  winning  of  the  first  frontier.  Already, 
before  the  next  frontier  at  the  falls  line  had  been 
reached,  the  older  settlements  had  begun  to  develop 
a  spirit  of  conservatism  plainly  different  from  the 
attitude  of  the  old  frontier. 


6  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

The  falls  line  was  passed  long  before  the  colonial 
period  came  to  an  end,  and  pioneers  were  working 
their  way  from  clearing  to  clearing,  up  into  the 
mountains,  by  the  early  eighteenth  century.  As 
they  approached  the  summit  of  the  eastern  divide, 
leaving  the  falls  behind,  the  essential  isolation  of 
the  provinces  began  to  weaken  under  the  combined 
forces  of  geographic  influence  and  common  need. 
The  valley  routes  of  communication  which  de- 
termined the  lines  of  advance  run  parallel,  across 
the  first  frontier,  but  have  a  tendency  to  converge 
among  the  mountains  and  to  stand  on  common 
ground  at  the  summit.  Every  reader  of  Francis 
Parkman  knows  how  in  the  years  from  1745  to  175& — 
the  pioneers  of  the  more  aggressive  colonies  crossed 
the  Alleghanies  and  meeting  on  the  summit  found 
that  there  they  must  make  common  cause  against  the 
French,  or  recede.  The  gateways  of  the  West  con- 
verge where  the  headwaters  of  the  Tennessee  and 
Cumberland  and  Ohio  approach  the  Potomac  and 
its  neighbors.  There  the  colonists  first  came  to 
have  common  associations  and  common  problems. 
Thus  it  was  that  the  years  in  which  the  frontier 
line  reached  the  forks  of  the  Ohio  were  filled  with 
talk  of  colonial  union  along  the  seaboard.  The 
frontier  problem  was  already  influencing  the  life  of 
the  East  and  impelling  a  closer  union  than  had  been 
known  before. 

The  line  of  the  frontier  was  generally  parallel  to 
the  coast  in  1700.     By  1800  it  had  assumed  the 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  7 

form  of  a  wedge,  with  its  apex  advancing  down  the 
rivers  of  the  Mississippi  Valley  and  its  sides  sloping 
backward  to  north  and  south.  The  French  war  of 
1756-1763  saw  the  apex  at  the  forks  of  the  Ohio. 
In  the  seventies  it  started  down  the  Cumberland  as 
pioneers  filled  up  the  valleys  of  eastern  Kentucky 
and  Tennessee.  North  and  south  the  advance  was 
slower.  No  other  river  valleys  could  aid  as  did  the 
Ohio,  Cumberland,  and  Tennessee,  and  population 
must  always  follow  the  line  of  least  resistance.  On 
both  sides  of  the  main  advance,  powerful  Indian 
confederacies  contested  the  ground,  opposing  the 
entry  of  the  whites.  The  centres  of  Indian  strength 
were  along  the  Lakes  and  north  of  the  Gulf.  Inter- 
mediate was  the  strip  of  "dark  and  bloody  ground, " 
fought  over  and  hunted  over  by  all,  but  occupied  by 
none;  and  inviting  white  approach  through  the  three 
valleys  that  opened  it  to  the  Atlantic. 

The  war  for  independence  occurred  just  as  the 
extreme  frontier  started  down  the  western  rivers. 
Campaigns  inspired  by  the  West  and  directed  by 
its  leaders  saw  to  it  that  when  the  independence  was 
achieved  the  boundary  of  the  United  States  should 
not  be  where  England  had  placed  it  in  1763,  on  the 
summit  of  the  Alleghanies,  but  at  the  Mississippi 
itself,  at  which  the  lines  of  settlement  were  shortly 
to  arrive.  The  new  nation  felt  the  influence  of  this 
frontier  in  the  very  negotiations  which  made  it  free. 
The  development  of  its  policies  and  its  parties  felt 
the  frontier  pressure  from  the  start. 


8  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

Steadily  after  1789  the  wedge-shaped  frontier 
advanced.  New  states  appeared  in  Kentucky  and 
Tennessee  as  concrete  evidences  of  its  advance,  while 
before  the  century  ended,  the  campaign  of  Mad 
Anthony  Wayne  at  the  Fallen  Timbers  had  allowed 
the  northern  flank  of  the  wedge  to  cross  Ohio  and 
include  Detroit.  At  the  turn  of  the  century  Ohio 
entered  the  Union  in  1803,  filled  with  a  population 
tempted  to  meet  the  trying  experiences  of  the  frontier 
by  the  call  of  lands  easier  to  till  than  those  in  New 
England,  from  which  it  came.  The  old  eastern  com- 
munities still  retained  the  traditions  of  colonial  isola- 
tion ;  but  across  the  mountains  there  was  none  of  this. 
Here  state  lines  were  artificial  and  convenient,  not 
representing  facts  of  barrier  or  interest.  The  emi- 
grants from  varying  sources  passed  over  single  routes, 
through  single  gateways,  into  a  valley  which  knew 
little  of  itself  as  state  but  was  deeply  impressed  with 
its  national  bearings.  A  second  war  with  England 
gave  voice  to  this  newer  nationality  of  the  newer 
states. 

The  war  with  England  in  its  immediate  conse- 
quences was  a  bad  investment.  It  ended  with  the 
government  nearly  bankrupt,  its  military  reputation 
redeemed  only  by  a  victory  fought  after  the  peace 
was  signed,  its  naval  strength  crushed  after  heroic 
resistance.  The  eastern  population,  whose  war  had 
been  forced  upon  it  by  the  West,  was  bankrupt  too. 
And  by  1814  began  the  Hegira.  For  five  years  the 
immediate  result  of  the  struggle  was  a  suffering 


THE   WESTWARD   MOVEMENT  9 

East.  A  new  state  for  every  year  was  the  western 
accompaniment. 

The  westward  movement  has  been  continuous  in 
America  since  the  beginning.  Bad  roads,  dense 
forests,  and  Indian  obstructers  have  never  suc- 
ceeded in  stifling  the  call  of  the  West.  A  steady 
procession  of  pioneers  has  marched  up  the  slopes 
of  the  Appalachians,  across  the  trails  of  the  summits, 
and  down  the  various  approaches  to  the  Mississippi 
Valley.  When  times  have  been  hard  in  the  East, 
the  stream  has  swollen  to  flood  proportions.  In 
the  five  years  which  followed  the  English  war  the 
accelerated  current  moved  more  rapidly  than  ever 
before;  while  never  since  has  its  speed  been  equalled 
save  in  the  years  following  similar  catastrophes,  as 
the  panics  of  1837  and  1857,  or  in  the  years  under 
the  direct  inspiration  of  the  gold  fields. 

Five  new  states  between  1815  and  1821  carried 
the  area  of  settlement  down  the  Ohio  to  the  Missis- 
sippi, and  even  up  the  Missouri  to  its  junction  with 
the  Kansas.  The  whole  eastern  side  was  filled  with 
states,  well  populated  along  the  rivers,  but  sparsely 
settled  to  north,  and  south.  The  frontier  wedge, 
noticeable  by  1776,  was  even  more  apparent,  now 
that  the  apex  had  crossed  the  Mississippi  and  as- 
cended the  Missouri  to  its  bend,  while  the  wings 
dragged  back,  just  including  New  Orleans  at  the 
south,  and  hardly  touching  Detroit  at  the  north. 
The  river  valleys  controlled  the  distribution  of  pop- 
ulation, and  as  yet  it  was  easier  and  simpler  to  follow 


10  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

the  valleys  farther  west  than  to  strike  out  across 
country  for  lands  nearer  home  but  lacking  the  con- 
venience of  the  natural  route. 

For  the  pioneer  advancing  westward  the  route  lay 
direct  from  the  summit  of  the  Alleghanies  to  the  bend 
of  the  Missouri.  The  course  of  the  Ohio  facilitated  his 
advance,  while  the  Missouri  River,  for  two  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  above  its  mouth,  runs  so  nearly  east 
and  west  as  to  afford  a  natural  continuation  of  the 
route.  But  at  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas  the  Mis- 
souri bends.  Its  course  changes  to  north  and  south 
and  it  ceases  to  be  a  highway  for  the  western  trav- 
eller. Beyond  the  bend  an  overland  journey  must 
commence.  The  Platte  and  Kansas  and  Arkansas 
all  continue  the  general  direction,  but  none  is  easily 
navigable.  The  emigrant  must  leave  the  boat  near 
the  bend  of  the  Missouri  and  proceed  by  foot  or 
wagon  if  he  desire  to  continue  westward.  With  the 
admission  of  Missouri  in  1821  the  apex  of  the  frontier 
had  touched  the  great  bend  of  the  river,  beyond 
which  it  could  not  advance  with  continued  ease. 
Population  followed  still  the  line  of  easiest  access, 
but  now  it  was  simpler  to  condense  the  settlements 
farther  east,  or  to  broaden  out  to  north  or  south, 
than  to  go  farther  west.  The  flanks  of  the  wedge 
began  to  move.  The  southwest  cotton  states  re- 
ceived their  influx  of  population.  The  country 
around  the  northern  lakes  began  to  fill  up.  The 
opening  of  the  Erie  Canal  in  1825  made  easier  the 
advancing  of  the  northern  frontier  line,  with  Michi- 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT         11 

gan,  Wisconsin,  and  even  Iowa  and  Minnesota  to 
be  colonized.  And  while  these  flanks  were  filling 
out,  the  apex  remained  at  the  bend  of  the  Missouri, 
whither  it  had  arrived  in  1821. 

There  was  more  to  hold  the  frontier  line  at  the 
bend  of  the  Missouri  than  the  ending  of  the  water 
route.  In  those  very  months  when  pioneers  were 
clearing  plots  near  the  mouth  of  the  Kaw,  or  Kansas, 
a  major  of  the  United  States  army  was  collecting 
data  upon  which  to  build  a  tradition  of  a  great 
American  desert;  while  the  Indian  difficulty,  stead- 
ily increasing  as  the  line  of  contact  between  the  races 
grew  longer,  acted  as  a  vigorous  deterrent. 

Schoolboys  of  the  thirties,  forties,  and  fifties  were 
told  that  from  the  bend  of  the  Missouri  to  the  Stony 
Mountains  stretched  an  American  desert.  The 
makers  of  their  geography  books  drew  the  des- 
ert upon  their  maps,  coloring  its  brown  with  the 
speckled  aspect  that  connotes  Sahara  or  Arabia,  with 
camels,  oases,  and  sand  dunes.  The  legend  was 
founded  upon  the  fact  that  rainfall  becomes  more 
scanty  as  the  slopes  approach  the  Rockies,  and  upon 
the  observation  of  Major  Stephen  H.  Long,  who 
traversed  the  country  in  1819-1820.  Long  re- 
ported that  it  could  never  support  an  agricultural 
population.  The  standard  weekly  journal  of  the 
day  thought  of  it  as  "  covered  with  sand,  gravel, 
pebbles,  etc."  A  writer  in  the  forties  told  of  its 
"utter  destitution  of  timber,  the  sterility  of  its 
sandy  soil,"  and  believed  that  at  "this  point  the 


12  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

Creator  seems  to  have  said  to  the  tribes  of  emigra- 
tion that  are  annually  rolling  toward  the  west, 
'Thus  far  shalt  thou  go,  and  no  farther."'  Thus 
it  came  about  that  the  frontier  remained  fixed  for 
many  years  near  the  bend  of  the  Missouri.  Diffi- 
culty of  route,  danger  from  Indians,  and  a  great 
and  erroneous  belief  in  the  existence  of  a  sandy 
desert,  all  served  to  barricade  the  way.  The  flanks 
advanced  across  the  states  of  the  old  Northwest,  and 
into  Louisiana  and  Arkansas,  but  the  western  out- 
post remained  for  half  a  century  at  the  point  which 
it  had  reached  in  the  days  of  Stephen  Long  and  the 
admission  of  Missouri. 

By  1821  many  frontiers  had  been  created  and 
crossed  in  the  westward  march;  the  seaboard,  the 
falls  line,  the  crest  of  the  Alleghanies,  the  Ohio 
Valley,  the  Mississippi  and  the  Missouri,  had  been 
passed  in  turn.  Until  this  last  frontier  at  the 
bend  of  the  Missouri  had  been  reached  nothing  had 
ever  checked  the  steady  progress.  But  at  this  point 
the  nature  of  the  advance  changed.  The  obstacles 
of  the  American  desert  and  the  Rockies  refused  to 
yield  to  the  "  heel-and-toe "  methods  which  had  been 
successful  in  the  past.  The  slavery  quarrel,  the 
Mexican  War,  even  the  Civil  War,  came  and  passed 
with  the  area  beyond  this  frontier  scarcely  changed. 
It  had  been  crossed  and  recrossed;  new  centres  of 
life  had  grown  up  beyond  it  on  the  Pacific  coast; 
Texas  had  acquired  an  identity  and  a  population; 
but  the  so-called  desert  with  its  doubtful  soils,  its 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT         13 

lack  of  easy  highways  and  its  Indian  inhabitants, 
threatened  to  become  a  constant  quantity. 

From  1821  to  1885  extends,  in  one  form  or  an- 
other, the  struggle  for  the  last  frontier.  The  im- 
perative demands  from  the  frontier  are  heard  con- 
tinually throughout  the  period,  its  leaders  in  long 
succession  are  filling  the  high  places  in  national 
affairs,  but  the  problem  remains  in  its  same  terri- 
torial location.  Connected  with  its  phases  appear 
the  questions  of  the  middle  of  the  century.  The 
destiny  of  the  Indian  tribes  is  suggested  by  the  long 
line  of  contact  and  the  impossibility  of  maintaining 
a  savage  and  a  civilized  life  together  and  at  once. 
A  call  from  the  farther  West  leads  to  more  thorough 
exploration  of  the  lands  beyond  the  great  frontier, 
bringing  into  existence  the  continental  trails,  pro- 
ducing problems  of  long-distance  government,  and 
intensifying  the  troubles  of  the  Indians.  The  final 
struggle  for  the  control  of  the  desert  and  the  elimi- 
nation of  the  frontier  draws  out  the  tracks  of  the 
Pacific  railways,  changes  and  reshapes  the  Indian 
policies  again,  and  brings  into  existence,  at  the  end 
of  the  period,  the  great  West.  But  the  struggle  is 
one  of  half  a  century,  repeating  the  events  of  all  the 
earlier  struggles,  and  ever  more  bitter  as  it  is  larger 
and  more  difficult.  It  summons  the  aid  of  the 
nation,  as  such,  before  it  is  concluded,  but  when  it  is 
ended  the  first  era  in  American  history  has  been 
closed. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   INDIAN   FRONTIER 

A  LENGTHENING  frontier  made  more  difficult  the 
maintenance  of  friendly  relations  between  the  two 
races  involved  in  the  struggle  for  the  continent.  It 
increased  the  area  of  danger  by  its  extension,  while  its 
advance  inland  pushed  the  Indian  tribes  away  from 
their  old  home  lands,  concentrating  their  numbers 
along  its  margin  and  thereby  aggravating  their 
situation.  Colonial  negotiations  for  lands  as  they 
were  needed  had  been  relatively  easy,  since  the 
Indians  and  whites  were  nearly  enough  equal  in 
strength  to  have  a  mutual  respect  for  their  agree- 
ments and  a  fear  of  violation.  But  the  white  popu- 
lation doubled  itself  every  twenty-five  years,  while 
the  Indians  close  enough  to  resist  were  never  more 
than  300,000,  and  have  remained  near  that  figure  or 
under  it  until  to-day.  The  stronger  race  could  afford 
to  indulge  the  contempt  that  its  superior  civilization 
engendered,  while  its  individual  members  along  the 
line  of  contact  became  less  orderly  and  governable  as 
the  years  advanced.  An  increasing  willingness  to 
override  on  the  part  of  the  white  governments  and  an 
increasing  personal  hatred  and  contempt  on  the  part 
of  individual  pioneers,  account  easily  for  the  danger 

14 


THE   INDIAN  FRONTIER  15 

to  life  along  the  frontier.  The  savage,  at  his  best, 
was  not  responsive  to  the  motives  of  civilization ;  at 
his  worst,  his  injuries,  real  or  imaginary,  —  and  too 
often  they  were  real,  —  made  him  the  most  dangerous 
of  all  the  wild  beasts  that  harassed  the  advancing 
frontier.  The  problem  of  his  treatment  vexed  all  the 
colonial  governments  and  endured  after  the  Revo- 
lution and  the  Constitution.  It  first  approached  a 
systematic  policy  in  the  years  of  Monroe  and  Adams 
and  Jackson,  but  never  attained  form  and  shape 
until  the  ideal  which  it  represented  had  been  out- 
lawed by  the  march  of  civilization  into  the  West. 
The  conflict  between  the  Indian  tribes  and  the 
whites  could  not  have  ended  in  any  other  way  than 
that  which  has  come  to  pass.  A  handful  of  savages, 
knowing  little  of  agriculture  or  manufacture  or 
trade  among  themselves,  having  no  conception  of 
private  ownership  of  land,  possessing  social  ideals 
and  standards  of  life  based  upon  the  chase,  could 
not  and  should  not  have  remained  unaltered  at  the 
expense  of  a  higher  form  of  life.  The  farmer  must 
always  have  right  of  way  against  the  hunter,  and 
the  trader  against  the  pilferer,  and  law  against  self- 
help  and  private  war.  In  the  end,  by  whatever 
route,  the  Indian  must  have  given  up  his  hunting 
grounds  and  contented  himself  with  progress  into 
civilized  life.  The  route  was  not  one  which  he 
could  ever  have  determined  for  himself.  The 
stronger  race  had  to  determine  it  for  him.  Under 
ideal  conditions  it  might  have  been  determined 


16  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

without  loss  of  life  and  health,  without  promoting 
a  bitter  race  hostility  that  invited  extinction  for  the 
inferior  race,  without  prostituting  national  honor 
or  corrupting  individual  moral  standards.  The 
Indians  needed  maintenance,  education,  discipline, 
and  guardianship  until  the  older  ones  should  have 
died  and  the  younger  accepted  the  new  order,  and 
all  these  might  conceivably  have  been  provided. 
But  democratic  government  has  never  developed  a 
powerful  and  centralized  authority  competent  to 
administer  a  task  such  as  this,  with  its  incidents  of 
checking  trade,  punishing  citizens,  and  maintaining 
rigorously  a  standard  of  conduct  not  acceptable  to 
those  upon  whom  it  is  to  be  enforced. 

The  acts  by  which  the  United  States  formulated 
and  carried  out  its  responsibilities  towards  the 
Indian  tribes  were  far  from  the  ideal.  In  theory 
the  disposition  of  the  government  was  generally 
benevolent,  but  the  scheme  was  badly  conceived, 
while  human  frailty  among  officers  of  the  law  and 
citizens  as  well  rendered  execution  short  of  such  ideal 
as  there  was. 

For  thirty  years  the  government  under  the  Con- 
stitution had  no  Indian  policy.  In  these  years  it 
acquired  the  habit  of  dealing  with  the  tribes  as 
independent  —  "  domestic  dependent  nations/7  Jus- 
tice Marshall  later  called  them  —  by  means  of 
formal  treaties.  Europe  thought  of  chiefs  as  kings 
and  tribes  as  nations.  The  practice  of  making 
treaties  was  based  on  this  delusion.  After  a  century 


THE   INDIAN   FRONTIER  17 

of  practice  it  was  finally  learned  that  nomadic 
savages  have  no  idea  of  sovereign  government  or 
legal  obligation,  and  that  the  assumption  of  the  ex- 
istence of  such  knowledge  can  lead  only  to  mis- 
conception and  disappointment. 

As  the  frontier  moved  down  the  Ohio,  individual 
wars  were  fought  and  individual  treaties  were  made 
as  occasion  offered.  At  times  the  tribes  yielded 
readily  to  white  occupation;  occasionally  they 
struggled  bitterly  to  save  their  lands;  but  the  result 
was  always  the  same.  The  right  bank  of  the  river, 
long  known  as  the  Indian  Shore,  was  contested  in  a 
series  of  wars  lasting  nearly  until  1800,  and  became 
available  for  white  colonization  only  after  John  Jay 
had,  through  his  treaty  of  1794,  removed  the  British 
encouragement  to  the  Indians,  and  General  Wayne 
had  administered  to  them  a  decisive  defeat.  Iso- 
lated attacks  were  frequent,  but  Tecumseh's  war 
of  1811  was  the  next  serious  conflict,  while,  after 
General  Harrison  brought  this  war  to  an  end  at 
Tippecanoe,  there  was  comparative  peace  along  the 
northwest  frontier  until  the  time  of  Black  Hawk  and 
his  uprising  of  1832. 

The  left  bank  of  the  river  was  opened  with  less 
formal  resistance,  admitting  Kentucky  and  Tennes- 
see before  the  Indian  Shore  was  a  safe  habitation 
for  whites.  South  of  Tennessee  lay  the  great  south- 
ern confederacies,  somewhat  out  of  the  line  of  early 
western  progress,  and  hence  not  plunged  into  strug- 
gles until  the  War  of  1812  was  over.  But  as  Wayne 


18  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

and  Harrison  had  opened  the  Northwest,  so  Jackson 
cleared  the  way  for  white  advance  into  Alabama 
and  Mississippi.  By  1821  new  states  touched  the 
Mississippi  River  along  its  whole  course  between 
New  Orleans  and  the  lead  mines  of  upper  Illinois. 

In  the  advance  of  the  frontier  to  the  bend  of  the 
Missouri  some  of  the  tribes  were  pushed  back,  while 
others  were  passed  and  swallowed  up  by  the  invad- 
ing population.  Experience  showed  that  the  two 
races  could  not  well  live  in  adjacent  lands.  The 
conditions  which  made  for  Indian  welfare  could  not 
be  kept  up  in  the  neighborhood  of  white  settlements, 
for  the  more  lawless  of  the  whites  were  ever  ready, 
through  illicit  trade,  deceit,  and  worse,  to  provoke 
the  most  dangerous  excesses  of  the  savage.  The 
Indian  was  demoralized,  the  white  became  steadily 
more  intolerant. 

Although  the  ingenious  Jefferson  had  anticipated 
him  in  the  idea,  the  first  positive  policy  which 
looked  toward  giving  to  the  Indian  a  permanent 
home  and  the  sort  of  guardianship  which  he  needed 
until  he  could  become  reconciled  to  civilized  life  was 
the  suggestion  of  President  Monroe.  At  the  end  of 
his  presidency,  Georgia  was  angrily  demanding  the 
removal  of  the  Cherokee  from  her  limits,  and  was 
ready  to  violate  law  and  the  Constitution  in  her 
desire  to  accomplish  her  end.  Monroe  was  pre- 
pared to  meet  the  demand.  He  submitted  to  Con- 
gress, on  January  27,  1825,  a  report  from  Calhoun, 
then  Secretary  of  War,  upon  the  numbers  of  the 


THE   INDIAN   FRONTIER  19 

tribes,  the  area  of  their  lands,  and  the  area  of 
available  destinations  for  them.  He  recommended 
that  as  rapidly  as  agreements  could  be  made  with 
them  they  be  removed  to  country  lying  westward 
and  northwestward,  —  to  the  further  limits  of  the 
Louisiana  Purchase,  which  lay  beyond  the  line  of 
the  western  frontier. 

Already,  when  this  message  was  sent  to  Congress, 
individual  steps  had  been  taken  in  the  direction 
which  it  pointed  out.  A  few  tribes  had  agreed  to 
cross  the  Mississippi,  and  had  been  allotted  lands 
in  Missouri  and  Arkansas.  But  Missouri,  just  ad- 
mitted, and  Arkansas,  now  opening  up,  were  no 
more  hospitable  to  Indian  wards  than  Georgia  and 
Ohio  had  been.  The  Indian  frontier  must  be  at 
some  point  still  farther  west,  towards  the  vast  plains 
overrun  by  the  Osage1  and  Kansa  tribes,  the  Pawnee 
and  the  Sioux.  There  had  been  few  dealings  with 
the  Indians  beyond  the  Mississippi  before  Monroe 
advanced  his  policy.  Lieutenant  Pike  had  visited 
the  head  of  the  Mississippi  in  1805  and  had  treated 
with  the  Sioux  for  a  reserve  at  St.  Paul.  Subse- 
quent agreements  farther  south  brought  the  Osage 
tribes  within  the  treaty  arrangements.  The  year 
1825  saw  the  notable  treaties  which  prepared  the 
way  for  peace  among  the  western  tribes,  and  the 
reception  by  these  tribes  of  the  eastern  nations. 

1  My  usage  in  spelling  tribal  names  follows  the  list  agreed  upon 
by  the  bureaus  of  Indian  Affairs  and  American  Ethnology,  and 
printed  in  C.  J.  Kappler,  Indian  Affairs,  Laws  and  Treaties,  57th 
Cong.,  1st  Sess.,  Sen.  Doc.  452,  Serial  4253,  p.  1021. 


20  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Five  weeks  after  the  special  message  Congress 
authorized  a  negotiation  with  the  Kansa  and  Osage 
nations.  These  tribes  roamed  over  a  vast  country 
extending  from  the  Platte  River  to  the  Red,  and 
west  as  far  as  the  lower  slopes  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. Their  limits  had  never  been  definitely  stated, 
although  the  Osage  had  already  surrendered  claim 
to  lands  fronting  on  the  Mississippi  between  the 
mouths  of  the  Missouri  and  the  Arkansas.  Not 
only  was  it  now  desirable  to  limit  them  more  closely 
in  order  to  make  room  for  Indian  immigrants,  but 
these  tribes  had  already  begun  to  worry  traders 
going  overland  to  the  Southwest.  As  soon  as  the 
frontier  reached  the  bend  of  the  Missouri,  the  profits 
of  the  Santa  Fe  trade  had  begun  to  tempt  caravans 
up  the  Arkansas  valley  and  across  the  plains.  To 
preserve  peace  along  the  Santa  Fe  trail  was  now  as 
important  as  to  acquire  grounds.  Governor  Clark 
negotiated  the  treaties  at  St.  Louis.  On  June  2, 
1825,  he  persuaded  the  Osage  chiefs  to  surrender  all 
their  lands  except  a  strip  fifty  miles  wide,  beginning 
at  White  Hair's  village  on  the  Neosho,  and  running 
indefinitely  west.  The  Kaw  or  Kansa  tribe  was  a 
day  later  in  its  agreement,  and  reserved  a  thirty- 
mile  strip  running  west  along  the  Kansas  River.  The 
two  treaties  at  once  secured  rights  of  transit  and 
pledges  of  peace  for  traders  to  Santa  Fe,  and  gave 
the  United  States  title  to  ample  lands  west  of  the 
frontier  on  which  to  plant  new  Indian  colonies. 

The  autumn  of  1825  witnessed  at  Prairie  du  Chien 


THE  INDIAN  FRONTIER  21 

the  first  step  towards  peace  and  condensation  along 
the  northern  frontier.  The  Erie  Canal,  not  yet 
opened,  had  not  begun  to  drain  the  population  of 
the  East  into  the  Northwest,  and  Indians  were  in 
peaceful  possession  of  the  lake  shores  nearly  to  Fort 
Wayne.  West  of  Lake  Michigan  were  constant 
tribal  wars.  The  Potawatomi,  Menominee,  and 
Chippewa,  first,  then  Winnebago,  and  Sauk  and 
Foxes,  and  finally  the  various  bands  of  Sioux  around 
the  Mississippi  and  upper  Missouri,  enjoyed  still 
their  traditional  hostility  and  the  chase.  Governor 
Clark  again,  and  Lewis  Cass,  met  the  tribes  at  the 
old  trading  post  on  the  Mississippi  to  persuade 
them  to  bury  the  tomahawk  among  themselves. 
The  treaty,  signed  August  19,  1825,  defined  the 
boundaries  of  the  different  nations  by  lines  of  which 
the  most  important  was  between  the  Sioux  and 
Sauk  and  Foxes,  which  was  later  to  be  known  as  the 
Neutral  Line,  across  northern  Iowa.  The  basis  of 
this  treaty  of  Prairie  du  Chien  was  temporary  at 
best.  Before  it  was  much  more  than  ratified  the 
white  influx  began,  Fort  Dearborn  at  the  head  of 
Lake  Michigan  blossomed  out  into  Chicago,  and 
squatters  penetrating  to  Rock  Island  in  the  Missis- 
sippi had  provoked  the  war  of  1832,  in  which  Black 
Hawk  made  the  last  stand  of  the  Indians  in  the  old 
Northwest.  In  the  thirties  the  policy  of  removal 
completed  the  opening  of  Illinois  and  Wisconsin  to 
the  whites. 
The  policy  of  removal  and  colonization  urged  by 


The  Indian  Tribes  colonized 
on  the  border  displaced  Na—  £ 
tiue  Tribes,  who  moved  West 
to  theppper  Missouri  and 
the  Ptains. 


000° 


Independent,  1836 
Annexed,  1845 


WIIUAM8  ENCRAVINB  CO.,  H'.f. 

INDIAN  COUNTRY  AND  AGRICULTURAL,  FRONTIER,  1840-1841 

Showing  the  solid  line  of  reservation  lands  extending  from  the  Red  River 
to  Green  Bay,  and  the  agricultural  frontier  of  more  than  six  inhabitants  per 
aquare  mile. 

22 


THE  INDIAN   FRONTIER  23 

Monroe  and  Calhoun  was  supported  by  Congress 
and  succeeding  Presidents,  and  carried  out  during  the 
next  fifteen  years.  It  required  two  transactions, 
the  acquisition  by  the  United  States  of  western  titles, 
and  the  persuasion  of  eastern  tribes  to  accept  the 
new  lands  thus  available.  It  was  based  upon  an 
assumption  that  the  frontier  had  reached  its  final 
resting  place.  Beyond  Missouri,  which  had  been 
admitted  in  1821,  lay  a  narrow  strip  of  good  lands, 
merging  soon  into  the  American  desert.  Few  sane 
Americans  thought  of  converting  this  land  into 
states  as  had  been  the  process  farther  east.  At  the 
bend  of  the  Missouri  the  frontier  had  arrived;  there 
it  was  to  stay,  and  along  the  lines  of  its  receding 
flanks  the  Indians  could  be  settled  with  pledges  of 
permanent  security  and  growth.  Here  they  could 
never  again  impede  the  western  movement  in  its 
creation  of  new  communities  and  states.  Here  it 
would  be  possible,  in  the  words  of  Lewis  Cass,  to 
"  leave  their  fate  to  the  common  God  of  the  white 
man  and  the  Indian." 

The  five  years  following  the  treaty  of  Prairie  du 
Chien  were  filled  with  active  negotiation  and  mi- 
gration in  the  lands  beyond  the  Missouri.  First 
came  the  Shawnee  to  what  was  promised  as  a  final 
residence.  From  Pennsylvania,  into  Ohio,  and  on 
into  Missouri,  this  tribe  had  already  been  pushed 
by  the  advancing  frontier.  Now  its  ever  shrinking 
lands  were  cut  down  to  a  strip  with  a  twenty-five- 
mile  frontage jDn  the  Missouri  line  and  an  extension 


24  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

west  for  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles  along 
the  south  bank  of  the  Kansas  River  and  the  south 
line  of  the  Kaw  reserve.  Its  old  neighbors,  the  Del- 
awares,  became  its  new  neighbors  in  1829,  accepting 
the  north  bank  of  the  Kansas,  with  a  Missouri 
River  frontage  as  far  north  as  the  new  Fort  Leaven- 
worth,  and  a  ten-mile  outlet  to  the  buffalo  country, 
along  the  northern  line  of  the  Kaw  reserve.  Later 
the  Kickapoo  and  other  minor  tribes  were  colonized 
yet  farther  to  the  north.  The  chase  was  still  to  be 
the  chief  reliance  of  the  Indian  population.  Un- 
limited supplies  of  game  along  the  plains  were  to 
supply  his  larder,  with  only  occasional  aid  from 
presents  of  other  food  supplies.  In  the  long  run 
agriculture  was  to  be  encouraged.  Farmers  and 
blacksmiths  and  teachers  were  to  be  provided  in 
various  ways,  but  until  the  longed-for  civilization 
should  arrive,  the  red  man  must  hunt  to  live.  The 
new  Indian  frontier  was  thus  started  by  the  coloni- 
zation of  the  Shawnee  and  Delawares  just  beyond 
the  bend  of  the  Missouri  on  the  old  possessions  of 
the  Kaw. 

1  The  northern  flank  of  the  Indian  frontier,  as  it 
came  to  be  established,  ran  along  the  line  of  the 
frontier  of  white  settlements,  from  the  bend  of  the 
Missouri,  northeasterly  towards  the  upper  lakes. 
Before  the  final  line  of  the  reservations  could  be 
determined  the  Erie  Canal  had  begun  to  shape  the 
Northwest.  Its  stream  of  population  was  filling  the 
northern  halves  of  Ohio,  Indiana,  and  Illinois,  and 


THE   INDIAN  FRONTIER  25 

working  up  into  Michigan  and  Wisconsin.  Black 
Hawk's  War  marked  the  last  struggle  for  the  fertile 
plains  of  upper  Illinois,  and  made  possible  an  Indian 
line  which  should  leave  most  of  Wisconsin  and  part 
of  Iowa  open  to  the  whites. 

Before  Black  Hawk's  War  occurred,  the  great 
peace  treaty  of  Prairie  du  Chien  had  been  followed, 
in  1830,  by  a  second  treaty  at  the  same  place,  at 
which  Governor  Clark  and  Colonel  Morgan  re- 
enforced  the  guarantees  of  peace.  The  Omaha 
tribe  now  agreed  to  stay  west  of  the  Missouri,  its 
neighbors  being  the  Yankton  Sioux  above,  and  the 
Oto  and  Missouri  below;  a  half-breed  tract  was 
reserved  between  the  Great  and  Little  Nemahas, 
while  the  neutral  line  across  Iowa  became  a  neutral 
strip  forty  miles  wide  from  the  Mississippi  River  to 
the  Des  Moines.  Chronic  warfare  between  the 
Sioux  and  Sauk  and  Foxes  had  threatened  the  ex- 
tinction of  the  latter  as  well  as  the  peace  of  the 
frontier,  so  now  each  tribe  surrendered  twenty  miles 
of  its  land  along  the  neutral  line.  Had  the  latter 
tribes  been  willing  to  stay  beyond  the  Mississippi, 
where  they  had  agreed  to  remain,  and  where  they 
had  clear  and  recognized  title  to  their  lands,  the  war 
of  1832  might  have  been  avoided.  But  they  con- 
tinued to  occupy  a  part  of  Illinois,  and  when  squat- 
ters jumped  their  cornfields  near  Rock  Island,  the 
pacific  counsels  of  old  Keokuk  were  less  acceptable 
than  the  warlike  promises  of  the  able  brave  Black 
Hawk.  The  resulting  war,  fought  over  the  country 


26  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

between  the  Rock  and  Wisconsin  rivers,  threw  the 
frontier  into  a  state  of  panic  out  of  all  proportion  to 
the  danger  threatening.  Volunteers  of  Illinois  and 
Michigan,  and  regulars  from  eastern  posts  under 
General  Winfield  Scott,  produced  a  peace  after  a 
campaign  of  doubtful  triumph.  Near  Fort  Arm- 
strong, on  Rock  Island,  a  new  territorial  arrangement 
was  agreed  upon.  As  the  price  of  their  resistance, 
the  Sauk  and  Foxes,  who  were  already  located 
west  of  the  Mississippi,  between  Missouri  and  the 
Neutral  Strip,  surrendered  to  the  United  States  a 
belt  of  land  some  forty  miles  wide  along  the  west 
bank  of  the  Mississippi,  thus  putting  a  buffer  be- 
tween themselves  and  Illinois  and  making  way  for 
Iowa.  The  Winnebago  consented,  about  this  time, 
to  move  west  of  the  Mississippi  and  occupy  a  por- 
tion of  the  Neutral  Strip. 

The  completion  of  the  Indian  frontier  to  the  upper 
lakes  was  the  work  of  the  early  thirties.  The  pur- 
chase at  Fort  Armstrong  had  made  the  line  follow 
the  north  boundary  of  Missouri  and  run  along  the 
west  line  of  this  Black  Hawk  purchase  to  the  Neu- 
tral Strip.  A  second  Black  Hawk  purchase  in  1837 
reduced  their  lands  by  a  million  and  a  quarter  acres 
just  west  of  the  purchase  of  1832.  Other  agree- 
ments with  the  Potawatomi,  the  Sioux,  the  Menom- 
inee,  and  the  Chippewa  established  a  final  line.  Of 
these  four  nations,  one  was  removed  and  the  others 
forced  back  within  their  former  territories.  The 
Potawatomi,  more  correctly  known  as  the  Chippewa, 


THE   INDIAN  FRONTIER  27 

Ottawa,  and  Potawatomi,  since  the  tribe  consisted 
of  Indians  related  by  marriage  but  representing 
these  three  stocks,  had  occupied  the  west  shore  of 
Lake  Michigan  from  Chicago  to  Milwaukee.  After 
a  great  council  at  Chicago  in  1833  they  agreed  to 
cross  the  Mississippi  and  take  up  lands  west  of  the 
Sauk  and  Foxes  and  east  of  the  Missouri,  in  present 
Iowa.  The  Menominee,  their  neighbors  to  the 
north,  with  a  shore  line  from  Milwaukee  to  the 
Menominee  River,  gave  up  their  lake  front  during 
these  years,  agreeing  in  1836  to  live  on  diminished 
lands  west  of  Green  Bay  and  including  the  left  bank 
of  the  Wisconsin  River. 

The  Sioux  and  Chippewa  receded  to  the  north. 
Always  hereditary  enemies,  they  had  accepted  a 
common  but  ineffectual  demarcation  line  at  the  old 
treaty  of  Prairie  du  Chien  in  1825.  In  1837  both 
tribes  made  further  cessions,  introducing  between 
themselves  the  greater  portion  of  Wisconsin.  The 
Sioux  acknowledged  the  Mississippi  as  their  future 
eastern  boundary,  while  the  Chippewa  accepted  a 
new  line  which  left  the  Mississippi  at  its  junction 
with  the  Crow  Wing,  ran  north  of  Lake  St.  Croix, 
and  extended  thence  to  the  north  side  of  the  Me- 
nominee country.  With  trifling  exceptions,  the  north 
flank  of  the  Indian  frontier  had  been  completed  by 
1837.  It  lay  beyond  the  farthest  line  of  white  occu- 
pation, and  extended  unbroken  from  the  bend  of 
the  Missouri  to  Green  Bay. 

While  the  north  flank  of  the  Indian  frontier  was 


28  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

being  established  beyond  the  probable  limits  of 
white  advance,  its  south  flank  was  extended  in  an 
unbroken  series  of  reservations  from  the  bend  of  the 
Missouri  to  the  Texas  line.  The  old  Spanish  bound- 
ary of  the  Sabine  River  and  the  hundredth  meridian 
remained  in  1840  the  western  limit  of  the  United 
States.  Farther  west  the  Comanche  and  the  plains 
Indians  roamed  indiscriminately  over  Texas  and  the 
United  States.  The  Caddo,  in  1835,  were  per-' 
suaded  to  leave  Louisiana  and  cross  the  Sabine  into 
Texas;  while  the  quieting  of  the  Osage  title  in  1825 
had  freed  the  country  north  of  the  Red  River  from 
native  occupants  and  opened  the  way  for  the 
colonizing  policy. 

The  southern  part  of  the  Indian  Country  was  early 
set  aside  as  the  new  home  of  the  eastern  confed- 
eracies lying  near  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  The  Creeks, 
Cherokee,  Choctaw,  Chickasaw,  and  Seminole  had 
in  the  twenties  begun  to  feel  the  pressure  of  the 
southern  states.  Jackson's  campaigns  had  weak- 
ened them  even  before  the  cession  of  Florida  to 
the  United  States  removed  their  place  of  refuge. 
Georgia  was  demanding  their  removal  when  Monroe 
announced  his  policy. 

A  new  home  for  the  Choctaw  was  provided  in  the 
extreme  Southwest  in  1830.  Ten  years  before,  this 
nation  had  been  given  a  home  in  Arkansas  territory, 
but  now,  at  Dancing  Rabbit  Creek,  it  received  a  new 
eastern  limit  in  a  line  drawn  from  Fort  Smith  on  the 
Arkansas  due  south  to  the  Red  River.  Arkansas 


THE   INDIAN  FRONTIER  29 

had  originally  reached  from  the  Mississippi  to  the 
hundredth  meridian,  but  it  was,  after  this  Choctaw 
cession,  cut  down  to  the  new  Choctaw  line,  which 
remains  its  boundary  to-day.  From  Fort  Smith 
the  new  boundary  was  run  northerly  to  the  southwest 
corner  of  Missouri. 

The  Creeks  and  Cherokee  promised  in  1833  to  go 
into  the  Indian  Country,  west  of  Arkansas  and 
north  of  the  Choctaw.  The  Creeks  became  the 
neighbors  of  the  Choctaw,  separated  from  them  by 
the  Canadian  River,  while  the  Cherokee  adjoined 
the  Creeks  on  the  north  and  east.  With  small  ex- 
ceptions the  whole  of  the  present  state  of  Oklahoma 
was  thus  assigned  to  these  three  nations.  The 
migrations  from  their  old  homes  came  deliberately 
in  the  thirties  and  forties.  The  Chickasaw  in  1837 
purchased  from  the  Choctaw  the  right  to  occupy  the 
western  end  of  their  strip  between  the  Red  and 
Canadian.  The  Seminole  had  acquired  similar 
rights  among  the  Creeks,  but  were  so  reluctant  to 
keep  the  pledge  to  emigrate  that  their  removal 
taxed  the  ability  of  the  United  States  army  for 
several  years. 

Between  the  southern  portion  of  the  Indian 
Country  and  the  Missouri  bend  minor  tribes  were 
colonized  in  profusion.  The  Quapaw  and  United 
Seneca  and  Shawnee  nations  were  put  into  the 
triangle  between  the  Neosho  and  Missouri.  The 
Cherokee  received  an  extra  grant  in  the  "  Cherokee 
Neutral  Strip, "  between  the  Osage  line  of  1825  and 


30  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

the  Missouri  line.  Next  to  the  north  was  made  a 
reserve  for  the  New  York  Indians,  which  they  re- 
fused to  occupy.  The  new  Miami  home  came 
next,  along  the  Missouri  line;  while  north  of  this 
were  little  reserves  for  individual  bands  of  Ottawa 
and  Chippewa,  for  the  Piankashaw  and  Wea,  the 
Kaskaskia  and  Peoria,  the  last  of  which  adjoined 
the  Shawnee  line  of  1825  upon  the  south. 

The  Indian  frontier,  determined  upon  in  1825, 
had  by  1840  been  carried  into  fact,  and  existed  un- 
broken from  the  Red  River  and  Texas  to  the  Lakes. 
The  exodus  from  the  old  homes  to  the  new  had  in 
many  instances  been  nearly  completed.  The  tribes 
were  more  easily  persuaded  to  promise  than  to  act, 
and  the  wrench  was  often  hard  enough  to  produce 
sullenness  or  even  war  when  the  moment  of  depar- 
ture arrived.  A  few  isolated  bands  had  not  even 
agreed  to  go.  But  the  figures  of  the  migrations, 
published  from  year  to  year  during  the  thirties, 
show  that  all  of  the  more  important  nations  east  of 
the  new  frontier  had  ceded  their  lands,  and  that  by 
1840  the  migration  was  substantially  over. 

President  Monroe  had  urged  as  an  essential  part 
of  the  removal  policy  that  when  the  Indians  had 
been  transferred  and  colonized  they  should  be  care- 
fully educated  into  civilization,  and  guarded  from 
contamination  by  the  whites.  Congress,  in  various 
laws,  tried  to  do  these  things.  The  policy  of  re- 
moval, which  had  been  only  administrative  at  the 
start,  was  confirmed  by  law  in  1830.  A  formal 


CHIEF  KEOKUK 

From  a  photograph  of  a  contemporary  oil  painting  owned  by  Judge  C.  F.  Davis.    Eepro- 
duced  by  permission  of  the  Historical  Department  of  Iowa. 


THE  INDIAN   FRONTIER  31 

Bureau  of  Indian  Affairs  was  created  in  1832,  under 
the  supervision  of  a  commissioner.  In  1834  was 
passed  the  Indian  Intercourse  Act,  which  remained 
the  fundamental  law  for  half  a  century. 

The  various  treaties  of  migration  had  contained 
the  pledge  that  never  again  should  the  Indians  be 
removed  without  their  consent,  that  whites  should 
be  excluded  from  the  Indian  Country,  and  that  their 
lands  should  never  be  included  within  the  limits  of 
any  organized  territory  or  state.  To  these  guaran- 
tees the  Intercourse  Act  attempted  to  give  force. 
The  Indian  Country  was  divided  into  superintenden- 
cies,  agencies,  and  sub-agencies,  into  which  white 
entry,  without  license,  was  prohibited  by  law.  As 
the  tribes  were  colonized,  agents  and  schools  and 
blacksmiths  were  furnished  to  them  in  what  was  a 
real  attempt  to  fulfil  the  terms  of  the  pledge.  The 
tribes  had  gone  beyond  the  limits  of  probable  ex- 
tension of  the  United  States,  and  there  they  were  to 
settle  down  and  stay.  By  1835  it  was  possible  for 
President  Jackson  to  announce  to  Congress  that 
the  plan  approached  its  consummation:  "All  pre- 
ceding experiments  for  the  improvement  of  the 
Indians"  had  failed;  but  now  "no  one  can  doubt 
the  moral  duty  of  the  Government  of  the  United 
States  to  protect  and  if  possible  to  preserve  and 
perpetuate  the  scattered  remnants  of  this  race  which 
are  left  within  our  borders.  .  .  .  The  pledge  of  the 
United  States,"  he  continued,  "has  been  given  by 
Congress  that  the  country  destined  for  the  residence 


32  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

of  this  people  shall  be  forever  '  secured  and  guaran- 
teed to  them. '  .  .  .  No  political  communities  can 
be  formed  in  that  extensive  region.  ...  A  barrier 
has  thus  been  raised  for  their  protection  against  the 
encroachment  of  our  citizens. "  And  now,  he  con- 
cluded, "they  ought  to  be  left  to  the  progress  of 
events." 

The  policy  of  the  United  States  towards  the  wards 
was  generally  benevolent.  Here,  it  was  sincere, 
whether  wise  or  not.  As  it  turned  out,  however, 
the  new  Indian  frontier  had  to  contend  with  move- 
ments of  population,  resistless  and  unforeseen.  No 
Joshua,  no  Canute,  could  hold  it  back.  The  re- 
sult was  inevitable.  The  Indian,  wrote  one  of  the 
frontiersmen  in  a  later  day,  speaking  in  the  language 
of  the  West,  "is  a  savage,  noxious  animal,  and  his 
actions  are  those  of  a  ferocious  beast  of  prey,  un- 
softened  by  any  touch  of  pity  or  mercy.  For  them 
he  is  to  be  blamed  exactly  as  the  wolf  or  tiger  is 
blamed. "  But  by  1840  an  Indian  frontier  had  been 
erected,  coterminous  with  the  agricultural  frontier, 
and  beyond  what  was  believed  to  be  the  limit  of 
expansion.  The  American  desert  and  the  Indian 
frontier,  beyond  the  bend  of  the  Missouri,  were 
forever  to  be  the  western  boundary  of  the  United 
States. 


CHAPTER  III 

IOWA   AND   THE   NEW  NORTHWEST 

IN  the  end  of  the  thirties  the  "right  wing"  of  the 
frontier,  as  a  colonel  of  dragoons  described  it,  ex- 
tended northeasterly  from  the  bend  of  the  Mis- 
souri to  Green  Bay.  It  was  an  irregular  line  beyond 
which  lay  the  Indian  tribes,  and  behind  which  was  a 
population  constantly  becoming  more  restless  and 
aggressive.  That  it  should  have  been  a  permanent 
boundary  is  not  conceivable;  yet  Congress  pro- 
fessed to  regard  it  as  such,  and  had  in  1836  ordered 
the  survey  and  construction  of  a  military  road  from 
the  mouth  of  the  St.  Peter's  to  the  Red  River.  The 
maintenance  of  the  southern  half  of  the  frontier 
was  perhaps  practicable,  since  the  tradition  of  the 
American  desert  was  long  to  block  migration  beyond 
the  limits  of  Missouri  and  Arkansas,  but  north  and 
east  of  Fort  Leavenworth  were  lands  too  alluring 
to  be  safe  in  the  control  of  the  new  Indian  Bureau. 
And  already  before  the  thirties  were  over  the  upper 
Mississippi  country  had  become  a  factor  in  the  west- 
ward movement. 

A  few  years  after  the  English  war  the  United 
States  had  erected  a  fort  at  the  junction  of  the  St. 
Peter's  and  the  Mississippi,  near  the  present  city  of 

D  33 


34  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

St.  Paul.  In  1805,  Zebulon  Montgomery  Pike  had 
treated  with  the  Sioux  tribes  at  this  point,  and  by 
1824  the  new  post  had  received  the  name  Fort 
Snelling,  which  it  was  to  retain  until  after  the  ad- 
mission of  Minnesota  as  a  state.  Pike  and  his 
followers  had  worked  their  way  up  the  Mississippi 
from  St.  Louis  or  Prairie  du  Chien  in  skiffs  or 
keelboats,  and  had  found  little  of  consequence  in 
the  way  of  white  occupation  save  a  few  fur-trading 
posts  and  the  lead  mines  of  Du  Buque.  Until  after 
the  English  war,  indeed,  and  the  admission  of  Illi- 
nois, there  had  been  little  interest  in  the  country 
up  the  river;  but  during  the  early  twenties  the  lead 
deposits  around  Du  Buque's  old  claim  became  the 
centre  of  a  business  that  soon  made  new  treaty 
negotiations  with  the  northern  Indians  necessary. 

On  both  sides  of  the  Mississippi,  between  the 
mouths  of  the  Wisconsin  and  the  Rock,  lie  the  ex- 
tensive lead  fields  which  attracted  Du  Buque  in 
the  days  of  the  Spanish  rule,  and  which  now  in  the 
twenties  induced  an  American  immigration.  The 
ease  with  which  these  diggings  could  be  worked  and 
the  demand  of  a  growing  frontier  population  for 
lead,  brought  miners  into  the  borderland  of  Illinois, 
Wisconsin,  and  Iowa  long  before  .either  of  the  last 
states  had  acquired  name  or  boundary  or  the  Indian 
possessors  of  the  soil  had  been  satisfied  and  re- 
moved. The  nations  of  Winnebago,  Sauk  and 
Foxes,  and  Potawatomi  were  most  interested  in 
this  new  white  invasion,  while  all  were  reluctant  to 


IOWA  AND   THE  NEW  NORTHWEST  35 

yield  the  lands  to  the  incoming  pioneers.  The 
Sauk  and  Foxes  had  given  up  their  claim  to  nearly 
all  the  lead  country  in  1804;  the  Potawatomi  ceded 
portions  of  it  in  1829;  and  the  Winnebago  in  the 
same  year  made  agreements  covering  the  mines 
within  the  present  state  of  Wisconsin. 

Gradually  in  the  later  twenties  the  pioneer  miners 
came  in,  one  by  one.  From  St.  Louis  they  came  up 
the  great  river,  or  from  Lake  Michigan  they  crossed 
the  old  portage  of  the  Fox  and  Wisconsin.  The 
southern  reinforcements  looked  much  to  Fort  Arm- 
strong on  Rock  Island  for  protection.  The  north- 
ern, after  they  had  left  Fort  Howard  at  Green  Bay, 
were  out  of  touch  until  they  arrived  near  the 
old  trading  post  at  Prairie  du  Chien.  War  with 
the  Winnebago  in  1827  was  followed  in  1828  by 
the  erection  of  another  United  States  fort,  —  at  the 
portage,  and  known  as  Fort  Winnebago.  Thus  the 
United  States  built  forts  to  defend  a  colonization 
which  it  prohibited  by  law  and  treaty. 

The  individual  pioneers  differed  much  in  their 
morals  and  their  cultural  antecedents,  but  were  uni- 
form in  their  determination  to  enjoy  the  profits  for 
which  they  had  risked  the  dangers  of  the  wilderness. 
Notable  among  them,  and  typical  of  their  highest 
virtues,  was  Henry  Dodge,  later  governor  of  Wis- 
consin, and  representative  and  senator  for  his  state 
in  Congress,  but  now  merely  one  of  the  first  in  the 
frontier  movement.  It  is  related  of  him  that  in 
1806  he  had  been  interested  in  the  filibustering  ex- 


36  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

pedition  of  Aaron  Burr,  and  had  gone  as  far  as  New 
Madrid,  to  join  the  party,  before  he  learned  that 
it  was  called  treason.  He  turned  back  in  disgust. 
"On  reaching  St.  Genevieve,"  his  chronicler  con- 
tinues, "they  found  themselves  indicted  for  treason 
by  the  grand  jury  then  in  session.  Dodge  sur- 
rendered himself,  and  gave  bail  for  his  appearance; 
but  feeling  outraged  by  the  action  of  the  grand  jury 
he  pulled  off  his  coat,  rolled  up  his  sleeves,  and  whipt 
nine  of  the  jurors;  and  would  have  whipt  the  rest, 
if  they  had  not  run  away. "  With  such  men  to  deal 
with,  it  was  always  difficult  to  enforce  unpopular 
laws  upon  the  frontier.  Dodge  had  no  hesitation 
in  settling  upon  his  lead  diggings  in  the  mineral 
country  and  in  defying  the  Indian  agents,  who  did 
their  best  to  persuade  him  to  leave  the  forbidden 
country.  On  the  west  bank  of  the  Mississippi 
federal  authority  was  successful  in  holding  off  the 
miners,  but  the  east  bank  was  settled  between 
Galena  and  Mineral  Point  before  either  the  Indian 
title  had  been  fully  quieted,  or  the  lands  had  been 
surveyed  and  opened  to  purchase  by  the  United 
States. 

The  Indian  war  of  1827,  the  erection  of  Fort  Win- 
nebago  in  1828,  the  cession  of  their  mineral  lands  by 
the  Winnebago  Indians  in  1829,  are  the  events  most 
important  in  the  development  of  the  first  settlements 
in  the  new  Northwest.  In  1829  and  1830  pioneers 
came  up  the  Mississippi  to  the  diggings  in  increasing 
numbers,  while  farmers  began  to  cast  covetous  eyes 


IOWA   AND   THE  NEW  NORTHWEST  37 

upon  the  prairies  lying  between  Lake  Michigan  and 
the  Mississippi.  These  were  the  lands  which  the 
Sauk  and  Fox  tribes  had  surrendered  in  1804,  but 
over  which  they  still  retained  rights  of  occupation 
and  the  chase  until  Congress  should  sell  them.  The 
entry  of  every  American  farmer  was  a  violation  of 
good  faith  and  law,  and  so  the  Indians  regarded  it. 
Their  largest  city  and  the  graves  of  their  ancestors 
were  in  the  peninsula  between  the  Rock  and  the 
Mississippi,  and  as  the  invaders  seized  the  lands, 
their  resentment  passed  beyond  control.  The  Black 
Hawk  War  was  the  forlorn  attempt  to  save  the  lands. 
When  it  ended  in  crushing  defeat,  the  United  States 
exercised  its  rights  of  conquest  to  compel  a  revision 
of  the  treaty  limits. 

The  great  treaties  of  1832  and  1833  not  only 
removed  all  Indian  obstruction  from  Illinois,  but 
prepared  the  way  for  further  settlement  in  both 
Wisconsin  and  Iowa.  The  Winnebago  agreed  to 
migrate  to  the  Neutral  Strip  in  Iowa,  the  Pota- 
watomi  accepted  a  reserve  near  the  Missouri  River, 
while  the  Black  Hawk  purchase  from  the  offend- 
ing Sauk  and  Foxes  opened  a  strip  some  forty 
miles  wide  along  the  west  bank  of  the  Mississippi. 
These  Indian  movements  were  a  part  of  the  general 
concentrating  policy  made  in  the  belief  that  a  per- 
manent Indian  frontier  could  be  established.  After 
the  Black  Hawk  War  came  the  creation  of  the  Indian 
Bureau,  the  ordering  of  the  great  western  road,  and 
the  erection  of  a  frontier  police.  Henry  Dodge  was 


38  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

one  of  the  few  individuals  to  emerge  from  the  war  with 
real  glory.  His  reward  came  when  Congress  formed 
a  regiment  of  dragoons  for  frontier  police,  and  made 
him  its  colonel.  In  his  regiment  he  operated  up  and 
down  the  long  frontier  for  three  years,  making  ex- 
peditions beyond  the  line  to  hold  Pawnee  confer- 
ences and  meetings  with  the  tribes  of  the  great 
plains,  and  resigning  his  command  only  in  time 
to  be  the  first  governor  of  the  new  territory  of  Wis- 
consin, in  1836.  He  knew  how  little  dependence 
could  be  placed  on  the  permanency  of  the  right 
wing  of  the  frontier.  "Nor  let  gentlemen  forget," 
he  reminded  his  colleagues  in  Congress  a  few  years 
later,  "that  we  are  to  have  continually  the  same 
course  of  settlements  going  on  upon  our  border. 
They  are  perpetually  advancing  westward.  They 
will  reach,  they  will  cross,  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
and  never  stop  till  they  have  reached  the  shores  of 
the  Pacific.  Distance  is  nothing  to  our  people.  .  .  . 
[They  will]  turn  the  whole  region  into  the  happy 
dwellings  of  a  free  and  enlightened  people." 

The  Black  Hawk  War  and  its  resulting  treaties  at 
once  quieted  the  Indian  title  and  gave  ample  ad- 
vertisement to  the  new  Northwest.  As  yet  there  had 
been  no  large  migration  to  the  West  beyond  Lake 
Michigan.  The  pioneers  who  had  provoked  the 
war  had  been  few  in  number  and  far  from  their  base 
upon  the  frontier.  Mere  access  to  the  country  had 
been  difficult  until  after  the  opening  of  the  Erie 
Canal,  and  even  then  steamships  did  not  run  regu- 


IOWA  AND   THE  NEW  NORTHWEST  39 

larly  on  Lake  Michigan  until  after  1832.  But  no- 
toriety now  tempted  an  increasing  wave  of  settlers. 
Congress  woke  up  to  the  need  of  some  territorial 
adjustment  for  the  new  country. 

Ever  since  Illinois  had  been  admitted  in  1818, 
Michigan  had  been  the  one  remaining  territory  of 
the  old  Northwest,  including  the  whole  area  north 
of  Ohio,  Indiana,  and  Illinois,  and  extending  from 
Lake  Huron  to  the  Mississippi  River.  Her  huge 
size  was  admittedly  temporary,  but  as  no  large 
centre  of  population  existed  outside  of  Detroit,  it  was 
convenient  to  simplify  the  federal  jurisdiction  in 
this  fashion.  The  lead  mines  on  the  Mississippi 
produced  a  secondary  centre  of  population  in  the 
late  twenties  and  pointed  to  an  early  division  of 
Michigan.  But  before  this  could  be  accomplished 
the  Black  Hawk  purchase  had  carried  the  Mississippi 
centre  of  population  to  the  right  bank  of  the  river. 
The  American  possessions  on  this  bank,  west  of  the 
river,  had  been  cast  adrift  without  political  organiza- 
tion on  the  admission  of  Missouri  in  1821.  Now 
the  appearance  of  a  vigorous  population  in  an  unor- 
ganized region  compelled  Congress  to  take  some 
action,  and  thus,  for  temporary  purposes,  Michigan 
was  enlarged  in  1834.  Her  new  boundary  extended 
west  to  the  Missouri  River,  between  the  state  of 
Missouri  and  Canada.  The  new  Northwest,  which 
may  be  held  to  include  Iowa,  Wisconsin,  and  Minne- 
sota, started  its  political  history  as  a  remote  settle- 
ment in  a  vast  territory  of  Michigan,  with  its  seat  of 


40  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

government  at  Detroit.  Before  it  was  cut  off  as  the 
territory  of  Wisconsin  in  1836  much  had  been  done 
in  the  way  of  populating  it. 

The  boom  of  the  thirties  brought  Arkansas  and 
Michigan  into  the  Union  as  states,  and  started  the 
growth  of  the  new  Northwest.  The  industrial  activ- 
ity of  the  period  was  based  on  speculation  in  public 
lands  and  routes  of  transportation.  America  was 
transportation  mad.  New  railways  were  building 
in  the  East  and  being  projected  West.  Canals  were 
turning  the  western  portage  paths  into  water  high- 
ways. The  speculative  excitement  touched  the  field 
of  religion  as  well  as  economics,  producing  new  sects 
by  the  dozen,  and  bringing  schisms  into  the  old. 
And  population  moving  already  in  its  inherent  rest- 
lessness was  made  more  active  in  migration  by  the 
hard  times  of  the  East  in  1833  and  1834. 

The  immigrants  brought  to  the  Black  Hawk 
purchase  and  its  vicinity,  in  the  boom  of  the  thirties, 
came  chiefly  by  the  river  route.  The  lake  route 
was  just  beginning  to  be  used;  not  until  the  Civil 
War  did  the  traffic  of  the  upper  Mississippi  natu- 
rally and  generally  seek  its  outlet  by  Lake  Michigan. 
The  Mississippi  now  carried  more  than  its  share  of 
the  home  seekers. 

Steamboats  had  been  plying  on  western  waters  in 
increasing  numbers  since  1811.  By  1823,  one  had 
gone  as  far  north  on  the  Mississippi  as  Fort  Snelling, 
while  by  1832  the  Missouri  had  been  ascended  to 
Fort  Union.  In  the  thirties  an  extensive  packet 


IOWA  AND  THE  NEW  NORTHWEST  41 

service  gathered  its  passengers  and  freight  at  Pitts- 
burg  and  other  points  on  the  Ohio,  carrying  them 
by  a  devious  voyage  of  1400  miles  to  Keokuk, 
near  the  southeast  corner  of  the  new  Black 
Hawk  lands.  Wagons  and  cattle,  children  and 
furniture,  crowded  the  decks  of  the  boats.  The 
aristocrats  of  emigration  rode  in  the  cabins  provided 
for  them,  but  the  great  majority  of  home  seekers 
lived  on  deck  and  braved  the  elements  upon  the 
voyage.  Explosions,  groundings,  and  collisions  en- 
livened the  reckless  river  traffic.  But  in  1836 
Governor  Dodge  found  more  than  22,000  inhabitants 
in  his  new  territory  of  Wisconsin,  most  of  whom  had 
reached  the  promised  land  by  way  of  the  river. 

For  those  whom  the  long  river  journey  did  not 
please,  or  who  lived  inland  in  Ohio  or  Indiana,  the 
national  road  was  a  help.  In  1825  the  continuation 
of  the  Cumberland  Road  through  Ohio  had  been 
begun.  By  1836  enough  of  it  was  done  to  direct  the 
overland  course  of  migration  through  Indianapolis 
towards  central  Illinois.  The  Conestoga  wagon, 
which  had  already  done  its  share  in  crossing  the 
Alleghanies,  now  carried  a  second  generation  to  the 
Mississippi.  At  Dubuque  and  Buffalo  and  Burling- 
ton ferries  were  established  before  1836  to  take  the 
immigrants  across  the  Mississippi  into  the  new  West. 

By  the  terms  of  its  treaty,  the  Black  Hawk  pur- 
chase was  to  be  vacated  by  the  Indians  in  the  summer 
of  1833.  Before  that  year  closed,  its  settlement  had 
begun,  despite  the  fact  that  the  government  surveys 


42  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

had  not  yet  been  made.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the 
frontier  farmer  paid  little  regard  to  the  legal  basis  of 
his  life.  He  settled  upon  unoccupied  lands  as  he 
needed  them,  trusting  to  the  public  opinion  of  the 
future  to  secure  his  title. 

The  legislature  of  Michigan  watched  the  migration 
of  1833  and  1834,  and  in  the  latter  year  created  the 
two  counties  of  Dubuque  and  Demoine,  beyond 
the  Mississippi,  embracing  these  settlements.  At  the 
old  claim  a  town  of  miners  appeared  by  magic, 
able  shortly  to  boast  "that  the  first  white  man  hung 
in  Iowa  in  a  Christian-like  manner  was  Patrick 
O' Conner,  at  Dubuque,  in  June,  1834."  Dubuque 
was  a  mining  camp,  differing  from  the  other  villages 
in  possessing  a  larger  proportion  of  the  lawless  ele- 
ment. Generally,  however,  this  Iowa  frontier  was 
peaceful  in  comparison  with  other  frontiers.  Life 
and  property  were  safe,  and  except  for  its  dealings 
with  the  Indians  and  the  United  States  government, 
in  which  frontiers  have  rarely  recognized  a  law, 
the  community  was  law-abiding.  It  stands  in  some 
contrast  with  another  frontier  building  at  the  same 
time  up  the  valley  of  the  Arkansas.  "Fent  Noland 
of  Batesville, "  wrote  a  contemporary  of  one  of  the 
heroes  of  this  frontier,  "is  in  every  way  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  men  of  the  West;  for  such  is 
the  versatility  of  his  genius  that  he  seems  equally 
adapted  to  every  species  of  effort,  intellectual  or 
physical.  With  a  like  unerring  aim  he  shoots  a 
bullet  or  a  bon  mot;  and  wields  the  pen  or  the  Bowie 


IOWA  AND  THE  NEW  NORTHWEST  43 

knife  with  the  same  thought,  swift  rapidity  of 
motion,  and  energetic  fury  of  manner.  Sunday  he 
will  write  an  eloquent  dissertation  on  religion; 
Monday  he  rawhides  a  rogue;  Tuesday  he  com- 
poses a  sonnet,  set  in  silver  stars  and  breathing  the 
perfume  of  roses  to  some  fair  maid's  eyebrows; 
Wednesday  he  fights  a  duel;  Thursday  he  does  up 
brown  the  personal  character  of  Senators  Sevier 
and  Ashley;  Friday  he  goes  to  the  ball  dressed  in 
the  most  finical  superfluity  of  fashion  and  shines 
the  soul  of  wit  and  the  sun  of  merry  badinage  among 
all  the  gay  gentlemen;  and  to  close  the  triumphs  of 
the  week,  on  Saturday  night  he  is  off  thirty  miles 
to  a  country  dance  in  the  Ozark  Mountains,  where 
they  trip  it  on  the  light  fantastic  toe  in  the  famous 
jig  of  the  double-shuffle  around  a  roaring  log  heap 
fire  in  the  woods  all  night  long,  while  between  the 
dances  Fent  Noland  sings  some  beautiful  wild  song, 
as  'Lucy  NeaP  or  ' Juliana  Johnson/  Thus  Fent 
is  a  myriad-minded  Proteus  of  contradictory  char- 
acters, many-hued  as  the  chameleon  fed  on  the  dews 
and  suckled  at  the  breast  of  the  rainbow. "  Much 
of  this  luxuriant  imagery  was  lacking  farther  north. 
The  first  phase  of  this  development  of  the  new 
Northwest  was  ended  in  1837,  when  the  general  panic 
brought  confusion  to  speculation  throughout  the 
United  States.  For  four  years  the  sanguine  hopes 
of  the  frontier  had  led  to  large  purchases  of  public 
lands,  to  banking  schemes  of  wildest  extravagance, 
and  to  railroad  promotion  without  reason  or  de- 


44  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

mand.  The  specie  circular  of  1836  so  deranged  the 
currency  of  the  whole  United  States  that  the  effort 
to  distribute  the  surplus  in  1837  was  fatal  to  the 
speculative 'boom.  The  new  communities  suffered 
for  their  hopeful  attempts.  When  the  panic  broke, 
the  line  of  agricultural  settlement  had  been  pushed 
considerably  beyond  the  northern  and  western 
limits  of  Illinois.  The  new  line  ran  near  to  the  Fox 
and  Wisconsin  portage  route  and  the  west  line  of 
the  Black  Hawk  purchase.  Milwaukee  and  South- 
port  had  been  founded  on  the  lake  shore,  hopeful 
of  a  great  commerce  that  might  rival  the  possessions 
of  Chicago.  Madison  and  its  vicinity  had  been 
developed.  The  lead  country  in  Wisconsin  had 
grown  in  population.  Across  the  river,  Dubuque, 
Davenport,  and  Burlington  gave  evidence  of  a 
growing  community  in  the  country  still  farther  west. 
Nearly  the  whole  area  intended  for  white  occupation 
by  the  Indian  policy  had  been  settled,  so  that  any 
further  extension  must  be  at  the  expense  of  the 
Indians'  guaranteed  lands. 

On  the  eve  of  the  panic,  which  depopulated  many 
of  the  villages  of  the  new  strip,  Michigan  had  been 
admitted.  Her  possessions  west  of  Lake  Michigan 
had  been  reorganized  as  a  new  territory  of  Wisconsin, 
with  a  capital  temporarily  at  Belmont,  where  Henry 
Dodge,  first  governor,  took  possession  in  the  fall  of 
1836.  A  territorial  census  showed  that  Wisconsin 
had  a  population  of  22,214  in  1836,  divided  nearly 
equally  by  the  Mississippi.  Most  of  the  population 


IOWA  AND  THE  NEW  NORTHWEST  45 

was  on  the  banks  of  the  great  river,  near  the  lead 
mines  and  the  Black  Hawk  purchase,  while  only  a 
fourth  could  be  found  near  the  new  cities  along  the 
lake.  The  outlying  settlements  were  already  press- 
ing against  the  Indian  neighbors,  so  that  the  new 
governor  soon  was  obliged  to  conduct  negotiations 
for  further  cessions.  The  Chippewa,  Menominee, 
and  Sioux  all  came  into  council  within  two  years, 
the  Sioux  agreeing  to  retire  west  of  the  Mississippi, 
while  the  others  receded  far  into  the  north,  leaving 
most  of  the  present  Wisconsin  open  to  development. 
These  treaties  completed  the  line  of  the  Indian  fron- 
tier as  it  was  established  in  the  thirties. 

The  Mississippi  divided  the  population  of  Wis- 
consin nearly  equally  in  1836,  but  subsequent  years 
witnessed  greater  growth  upon  her  western  bank. 
Never  in  the  westward  movement  had  more  attrac- 
tive farms  been  made  available  than  those  on  the 
right  bank  now  reached  by  the  river  steamers  and 
the  ferries  from  northern  Illinois.  Two  years  after 
the  erection  of  Wisconsin  the  western  towns  re- 
ceived their  independent  establishment,  when  in 
1838  Iowa  Territory  was  organized  by  Congress, 
including  everything  between  the  Mississippi  and 
Missouri  rivers,  and  north  of  the  state  of  Missouri. 
Burlington,  a  village  of  log  houses  with  perhaps  five 
hundred  inhabitants,  became  the  seat  of  govern- 
ment of  the  new  territory,  while  Wisconsin  retired 
east  of  the  river  to  a  new  capital  at  Madison.  At 
Burlington  a  first  legislature  met  in  the  autumn,  to 


46  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

choose  for  a  capital  Iowa  City,  and  to  do  what  it 
could  for  a  community  still  suffering  from  the  re- 
sults of  the  panic. 

The  only  Iowa  lands  open  to  lawful  settlement 
were  those  of  the  Black  Hawk  purchase,  many  of 
which  were  themselves  not  surveyed  and  on  the 
market.  But  the  pioneers  paid  little  heed  to  this. 
Leaving  titles  to  the  future,  they  cleared  their 
farms,  broke  the  sod,  and  built  their  houses. 


IOWA  SOD  PLOW 

The  heavy  sod  of  the  Iowa  prairies  was  beyond 
the  strength  of  the  individual  settler.  In  the  years 
of  first  development  the  professional  sod  breaker 
was  on  hand,  a  most  important  member  of  his  com- 
munity, with  his  great  plough,  and  large  teams  of 
from  six  to  twelve  oxen,  making  the  ground  ready 
for  the  first  crop.  In  the  frontier  mind  the  land 
belonged  to  him  who  broke  it,  regardless  of  mere 
title.  The  quarrel  between  the  squatter  and  the 
speculator  was  perennial.  Congress  in  its  laws 


IOWA   AND  THE  NEW  NORTHWEST  47 

sought  to  dispose  of  lands  by  auction  to  the  highest 
bidder,  —  a  scheme  through  which  the  sturdy  im- 
pecunious farmer  saw  his  clearing  in  danger  of  being 
bought  over  his  modest  bid  by  an  undeserving 
speculator.  Accordingly  the  history  of  Iowa  and 
Wisconsin  is  full  of  the  claims  associations  by  which 
the  squatters  endeavored  to  protect  their  rights 
and  succeeded  well.  By  voluntary  association  they 
agreed  upon  their  claims  and  bounds.  Transfers 
and  sales  were  recorded  on  their  books.  When  at 
last  the  advertised  day  came  for  the  formal  sale  of 
the  township  by  the  federal  land  officer  the  popu- 
lation attended  the  auction  in  a  body,  while  their 
chosen  delegate  bid  off  the  whole  area  for  them  at 
the  minimum  price,  and  without  competition.  At 
times  it  happened  that  the  speculator  or  the  casual 
purchaser  tried  to  bid,  but  the  squatters  present 
with,  their  cudgels  and  air  of  anticipation  were 
usually  able  to  prevent  what  they  believed  to  be 
unfair  interference  with  their  rights.  The  claims 
associations  were  entirely  illegal;  yet  they  reveal, 
as  few  American  institutions  do,  the  orderly  ten- 
dencies of  an  American  community  even  when  its 
organization  is  in  defiance  of  existing  law. 

The  development  of  the  new  territories  of  Iowa 
and  Wisconsin  in  the  decade  after  their  erection 
carried  both  far  towards  statehood.  Burlington, 
the  earliest  capital  of  Iowa,  was  in  1840  "the  larg- 
est, wealthiest,  most  business-doing  and  most 
fashionable  city,  on  or  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 


48  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Upper  Mississippi.  .  .  .  We  have  three  or  four 
churches,"  said  one  of  its  papers,  "a  theatre,  and  a 
dancing  school  in  full  blast. "  As  early  as  1843  the 
Black  Hawk  purchase  was  overrun.  The  Sauk  and 
Foxes  had  ceded  provisionally  all  their  Iowa  lands 
and  the  Potawatomi  were  in  danger.  "  Although 
it  is  but  ten  years  to-day, "  said  their  agent,  speaking 
of  their  Chicago  treaty  of  1833,  "the  tide  of  emigra- 
tion has  rolled  onwards  to  the  far  West,  until  the 
whites  are  now  crowded  closely  along  the  southern 
side  of  these  lands,  and  will  soon  swarm  along  the 
eastern  side,  to  exhibit  the  very  worst  traits  of  the 
white  man's  character,  and  destroy,  by  fraud  and 
illicit  intercourse,  the  remnant  of  a  powerful  people, 
now  exposed  to  their  influence."  Iowa  was  ad- 
mitted to  the  Union  in  1846,  after  bickering  over 
her  northern  boundary;  Wisconsin  followed  in  1848; 
the  remnant  of  both,  now  known  as  Minnesota,  was 
erected  as  a  territory  in  its  own  right  in  the  next  year. 
Fort  Snelling  was  nearly  twenty  years  old  before 
it  came  to  be  more  than  a  distant  military  out- 
post. Until  the  treaties  of  1837  it  was  in  the  midst 
of  the  Sioux  with  no  white  neighbors  save  the 
agents  of  the  fur  companies,  a  few  refugees  from  the 
Red  River  country,  and  a  group  of  more  or  less 
disreputable  hangers-on.  An  enlargement  of  the 
military  reserve  in  1837  led  to  the  eviction  by  the 
troops  of  its  near-by  squatters,  with  the  result  that 
one  of  these  took  up  his  grog  shop,  left  the  peninsula 
between  the  Mississippi  and  St.  Peter's,  and  erected 


IOWA  AND   THE  NEW  NORTHWEST  49 

the  first  permanent  settlement  across  the  former, 
where  St.  Paul  now  stands.  Iowa  had  desired  a 
northern  boundary  which  should  touch  the  St. 
Peter's  River,  but  when  she  was  admitted  without 
it  and  Wisconsin  followed  with  the  St.  Croix  as  her 
western  limit,  Minnesota  was  temporarily  without 
a  government. 

The  Minnesota  territorial  act  of  1849  preceded 
the  active  colonization  of  the  country  around  St. 
Paul.  Mendota,  Fort  Snelling,  St.  Anthony's,  and 
Stillwater  all  came  into  active  being,  while  the  most 
enterprising  settlers  began  to  push  up  the  Minne- 
sota River,  as  the  St.  Peter's  now  came  to  be  called. 
As  usual  the  Indians  were  in  the  way.  As  usual 
the  claims  associations  were  resorted  to.  And 
finally,  as  usual  the  Indians  yielded.  At  Mendota 
and  Traverse  des  Sioux,  in  the  autumn  of  1851, 
the  magnates  of  the  young  territory  witnessed  great 
treaties  by  which  the  Sioux,  surrendering  their 
portion  of  the  permanent  Indian  frontier,  gave  up 
most  of  their  vast  hunting  grounds  to  accept  valley 
reserves  along  the  Minnesota.  And  still  more 
rapidly  population  came  in  after  the  cession. 

The  new  Northwest  was  settled  after  the  great 
day  of  the  keelboat  on  western  waters.  Iowa  and 
the  lead  country  had  been  reached  by  the  steamboats 
of  the  Mississippi.  The  Milwaukee  district  was 
reached  by  the  steamboats  from  the  lakes.  The 
upper  Mississippi  frontier  was  now  even  more 
thoroughly  dependent  on  the  river  navigation  than 


50  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

its  neighbors  had  been,  while  its  first  period  was  over 
before  any  railroad  played  an  immediate  part  in  its 
development. 

The  boom  period  between  the  panics  of  1837 
and  1857  thus  added  another  concentric  band 
along  the  northwest  border,  disregarding  the  Indian 
frontier  and  introducing  a  large  population  where 
the  prophet  of  the  early  thirties  had  declared  that 
civilization  could  never  go.  The  Potawatomi  of 
Iowa  had  yielded  in  1846,  the  Sioux  in  1851.  The 
future  of  the  other  tribes  in  their  so-called  perma- 
nent homes  was  in  grave  question  by  the  middle  of 
the  decade.  The  new  frontier  by  1857  touched  the 
tip  of  Lake  Superior,  included  St.  Paul  and  the 
lower  Minnesota  -valley,  passed  around  Spirit  Lake 
in  northwest  Iowa,  and  reached  the  Missouri  near 
Sioux  City.  In  a  few  more  years  the  right  wing  of 
the  frontier  would  run  due  north  from  the  bend  of 
the  Missouri. 

The  hopeful  life  of  the  fifties  surpassed  that  of  the 
thirties  in  its  speculative  zeal.  The  home  seeker 
had  to  struggle  against  the  occasional  Indian  and 
the  unscrupulous  land  agent  as  well  as  his  own  too 
sanguine  disposition.  Fictitious  town  sites  had  to 
be  distinguished  from  the  real.  Fraudulent  dealers 
more  than  once  sold  imaginary  lots  and  farms  from 
beautifully  lithographed  maps  to  eastern  investors. 
Occasionally  whole  colonies  of  migrants  would  appear 
on  the  steamboat  wharves  bound  for  non-existent 
towns.  And  when  the  settler  had  escaped  fraud, 


IOWA  AND  THE   NEW  NORTHWEST  51 

and  avoided  or  survived  the  racking  torments  of  fever 
or  cholera,  the  Indian  danger  was  sometimes  real. 

Iowa  had  advanced  her  northwest  frontier  up  the 
Des  Moines  River,  past  the  old  frontier  fort,  until  in 
1856  a  couple  of  trading  houses  and  a  few  families  had 
reached  the  vicinity  of  Spirit  Lake.  Here,  in  March, 
1857,  one  of  the  settlers  quarrelled  with  a  wandering 
Indian  over  a  dog.  The  Indian  belonged  to  Ink- 
paduta's  band  of  Sioux,  one  not  included  in  the 
treaty  of  1851.  Forty-seven  dead  settlers  slaught- 
ered by  the  band  were  found  a  few  days  later  by  a 
visitor  to  the  village.  A  hard  winter  campaign  by 
regulars  from  Fort  Ridgely  resulted  in  the  rescue 
of  some  of  the  captives,  but  the  indignant  demand 
of  the  frontier  for  retaliation  was  never  granted. 

In  spite  of  fraud  and  danger  the  population  grew. 
For  the  first  time  the  railroad  played  a  material 
part  in  its  advance.  The  great  eastern  trunk  lines 
had  crossed  the  Alleghanies  into  the  Ohio  valley. 
Chicago  had  received  connection  with  the  East  in 
1852.  The  Mississippi  had  been  reached  by  1854. 
In  the  spring  of  1856  all  Iowa  celebrated  the  opening 
of  a  railway  bridge  at  Davenport. 

The  new  Northwest  escaped  its  dangers  only  to 
fall  a  victim  to  its  own  ambition.  An  earlier  dec- 
ade of  expansion  had  produced  panic  in  1837.  Now 
greater  expansion  and  prosperity  stimulated  an 
over-development  that  chartered  railways  and 
even  built  them  between  points  that  scarcely  ex- 
isted and  through  country  rank  in  its  prairie  growth, 


52  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

wild  with  game,  and  without  inhabitants.  Over- 
speculation  on  borrowed  money  finally  brought  retri- 
bution in  the  panic  of  1857,  with  Minnesota  about 
tojrame_a_£onstitution  and  enter  the  Union.  The 
panic  destroyed  the  railways  and  bankrupted  the 
inhabitants.  At  Duluth,  a  canny  pioneer,  who 
lived  in  the  present,  refused  to  swap  a  pair  of  boots 
for  a  town  lot  in  the  future  city.  At  the  other  end 
of  the  line  a  floating  population  was  prepared  to 
hurry  west  on  the  first  news  of  Pike's  Peak  gold. 

But  a  new  Northwest  had  come  into  life  in  spite 
of  the  vicissitudes  of  1837  and  1857.  Wisconsinjlin- 
nesota,  and  Iowa  had  in  1860  ten  times  the  popula- 
tion of  Illinois  at  the  opening  of  the  Black  Hawk 
War.  More  than  a  million  and  a  half  of  pioneers  had 
settled  within  these  three  new  states,  building  their 
towns  and  churches  and  schools,  pushing  back  the 
right  flank  of  the  Indian  frontier,  and  reiterating 
their  perennial  demand  that  the  Indian  must  go. 
This  was  the  first  departurefrom  the  policy  laid 
down  by  Monroe  and  carried  out  by  Adams  and 
Jackson.  Before  this  movement  had  ended,  that 
policy  had  been  attacked  from  another  side,  and  was 
once  more  shown  to  be  impracticable.  The  Indian 
had  too  little  strength  to  compel  adherence  to  the 
contract,  and  hence  suffered  from  this  encroachment 
by  the  new  Northwest.  His  final  destruction  came 
from  the  overland  traffic,  which  already  by  1857  had 
destroyed  the  fiction  of  the  American  desert,  and 
introduced  into  his  domain  thousands  of  pioneers 
lured  by  the  call  of  the  West  and  the  lust  for  gold. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    SANTA   FE    TRAIL 

ENGLAND  had  had  no  colonies  so  remote  and  in- 
accessible as  the  interior  provinces  of  Spain,  which 
stretched  up  into  the  country  between  the  Rio 
Grande  and  the  Pacific  for  more  than  fifteen  hun- 
dred miles  above  Vera  Cruz.  Before  the  English 
seaboard  had  received  its  earliest  colonists,  the 
hand  of  Spain  was  already  strong  in  the  upper  waters 
of  the  Rio  Grande,  where  her  outposts  had  been 
planted  around  the  little  adobe  village  of  Santa  Fe. 
For  more  than  two  hundred  years  this  life  had  gone 
on,  unchanged  by  invention  or  discovery,  unen- 
lightened by  contact  with  the  world  or  admixture  of 
foreign  blood.  Accepting,  with  a  docility  character- 
istic of  the  colonists  of  Spain,  the  hard  conditions 
and  restrictions  of  the  law,  communication  with 
these  villages  of  Chihuahua  and  New  Mexico  had 
been  kept  in  the  narrow  rut  worn  through  the  hills 
by  the  pack-trains  of  the  king. 

It  was  no  stately  procession  that  wound  up  into 
the  hills  yearly  to  supply  the  Mexican  frontier. 
From  Vera  Cruz  the  port  of  entry,  through  Mexico 
City,  and  thence  north  along  the  highlands  through 
San  Luis  Potosi  and  Zacatecas  to  Durango,  and 

53 


54  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

thence  to  Chihuahua,  and  up  the  valley  of  the 
Rio  Grande  to  Santa  F6  climbed  the  long  pack- 
trains  and  the  clumsy  ox-carts  that  carried  into  the 
provinces  their  whole  supply  from  outside.  The 
civilization  of  the  provincial  life  might  fairly  be 
measured  by  the  length,  breadth,  and  capacity  of 
this  transportation  route.  Nearly  two  thousand 
miles,  as  the  road  meandered,  of  river,  mountain 
gorge,  and  arid  desert  had  to  be  overcome  by  the 
mule-drivers  of  the  caravans.  What  their  pack- 
animals  could  not  carry,  could  not  go.  What  had 
large  bulk  in  proportion  to  its  value  must  stay 
behind.  The  ancient  commerce  of  the  Orient, 
carried  on  camels  across  the  Arabian  desert,  could 
afford  to  deal  in  gold  and  silver,  silks,  spices,  and 
precious  drugs;  in  like  manner,  though  in  less  degree, 
the  world's  contribution  to  these  remote  towns  was 
confined  largely  to  textiles,  drugs,  and  trinkets  of 
adornment.  Yet  the  Creole  and  Mestizo  population 
of  New  Mexico  bore  with  these  meagre  supplies  for 
more  than  two  centuries  without  an  effort  to  improve 
upon  them.  Their  resignation  gives  some  credit  to 
the  rigors  of  the  Spanish  colonial  system  which 
restricted  their  importation  to  the  defined  route  and 
the  single  port.  It  is  due  as  much,  however,  to  the 
hard  geographic  fact  which  made  Vera  Cruz  and 
Mexico,  distant  as  they  were,  their  nearest  neighbors, 
until  in  the  nineteenth  century  another  civilization 
came  within  hailing  distance,  at  its  frontier  in  the 
bend  of  the  Missouri. 


THE  SANTA  FE  TRAIL  55 

The  Spanish  provincials  were  at  once  willing  to 
endure  the  rigors  of  the  commercial  system  and  to 
smuggle  when  they  had  a  chance.  So  long  as  it 
was  cheaper  to  buy  the  product  of  the  annual  caravan 
than  to  develop  other  sources  of  supply  the  caravans 
flourished  without  competition.  It  was  not  until 
after  the  expulsion  of  Spain  and  the  independence  of 
Mexico  that  a  rival  supply  became  important,  but 
there  are  enough  isolated  events  before  this  time  to 
show  what  had  to  occur  just  so  soon  as  the  United 
States  frontier  came  within  range. 

The  narrative  of  Pike  after  his  return  from  Spanish 
captivity  did  something  to  reveal  the  existence  of  a 
possible  market  in  Santa  Fe.  He  had  been  engaged 
in  exploring  the  western  limits  of  the  Louisiana 
purchase,  and  had  wandered  into  the  valley  of  the 
Rio  Grande  while  searching  for  the  head  waters  of 
the  Red  River.  Here  he  was  arrested,  in  1807,  by 
Spanish  troops,  and  taken  to  Chihuahua  for  exami- 
nation. After  a  short  detention  he  was  escorted  to 
the  limits  of  the  United  States,  where  he  was  released. 
He  carried  home  the  news  of  high  prices  and  profit- 
able markets  existing  among  the  Mexicans. 

In  1811  an  organized  expedition  set  out  to  verify 
the  statements  of  Pike.  Rumor  had  come  to  the 
States  of  an  insurrection  in  upper  Mexico,  which 
might  easily  abolish  the  trade  restriction.  But  the 
revolt  had  been  suppressed  before  the  dozen  or  so  of 
reckless  Americans  who  crossed  the  plains  had  ar- 
rived at  their  destination.  The  Spanish  authorities, 


56  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

restored  to  power  and  renewed  vigor,  received  them 
with  open  prisons.  In  jail  they  were  kept  at  Chihua- 
hua, some  for  ten  years,  while  the  traffic  which  they 
had  hoped  to  inaugurate  remained  still  in  the  future. 
Their  release  came  only  with  the  independence  of 
Mexico,  which  quickly  broke  down  the  barrier  against 
importation  and  the  foreigner. 

The  Santa  Fe  trade  commenced  when  the  news  of 
the  Mexican  revolution  reached  the  border.  Late 
in  the  fall  of  1821  one  William  Becknell,  chancing 
a  favorable  reception  from  Iturbide's  officials,  took 
a  small  train  from  the  Missouri  to  New  Mexico,  in 
what  proved  to  be  a  profitable  speculation.  He 
returned  to  the  States  in  time  to  lead  out  a  large 
party  in  the  following  summer.  So  long  as  the 
United  States  frontier  lay  east  of  the  Missouri  River 
there  could  have  been  no  western  traffic,  but  now 
that  settlement  had  reached  the  Indiaji  Country, 
and  river  steamers  had  made  easy  freighting  from 
Pittsburg  to  Franklin  or  Independence,  Santa  F6 
was  nearer  to  the  United  States  seaboard  markets 
than  to  Vera  Cruz.  Hence  the  breach  in  the 
American  desert  and  the  Indian  frontier  made  by 
this  earliest  of  the  overland  trails. 

The  year  1822  was  not  only  the  earliest  in  the 
Santa  Fe  trade,  but  it  saw  the  first  wagons  taken 
across  the  plains.  The  freight  capacity  of  the  mule- 
train  placed  a  narrow  limit  upon  the  profits  and 
extent  of  trade.  Whether  a  wagon  could  be  hauled 
over  the  rough  trails  was  a  matter  of  considerable 


THE  SANTA  FE  TRAIL 


57 


doubt  when  Becknell  and  Colonel  Cooper  attempted 
it  in  this  year.  The  experiment  was  so  successful 
that  within  two  years  the  pack-train  was  generally 
abandoned  for  the  wagons  by  the  Santa  F£  traders. 


OVERLAND  TRAILS 

The  main  trail  to  Oregon  was  opened  before  1840;  that  to  California  ap- 
peared about  1845;  the  Santa  Fd  trail  had  been  used  since  1821.  The  overland 
mail  of  1858  followed  the  southern  route. 

The  wagons  carried  a  miscellaneous  freight.  "  Cot- 
ton goods,  consisting  of  coarse  and  fine  cambrics, 
calicoes,  domestic,  shawls,  handkerchiefs,  steam- 
loom  shirtings,  and  cotton  hose/7  were  in  high 
demand.  There  were  also  "a  few  woollen  goods, 
consisting  of  super  blues,  stroudings,  pelisse  cloths, 
and  shawls,  crapes,  bombazettes,  some  light  articles 


58  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

of  cutlery,  silk  shawls,  and  looking-glasses."  Back- 
ward bound  their  freights  were  lighter.  Many  of  the 
wagons,  indeed,  were  sold  as  part  of  the  cargo.  The 
returning  merchants  brought  some  beaver  skins  and 
mules,  but  their  Spanish-milled  dollars  and  gold  and 
silver  bullion  made  up  the  bulk  of  the  return  freight. 

Such  a  commerce,  even  in  its  modest  beginnings, 
could  not  escape  the  public  eye.  The  patron  of  the 
West  came  early  to  its  aid.  Senator  Thomas  Hart 
Benton  had  taken  his  seat  from  the  new  state  of 
Missouri  just  in  time  to  notice  and  report  upon  the 
traffic.  No  public  man  was  more  confirmed  in  his 
friendship  for  the  frontier  trade  than  Senator 
Benton.  The  fur  companies  found  him  always  on 
hand  to  get  them  favors  or  to  "turn  aside  the  whip  of 
calamity."  Because  of  his  influence  his  son-in-law, 
Fremont,  twenty  years  later,  explored  the  wilderness. 
Now,  in  1824,  he  was  prompt  to  demand  encourage- 
ment. A  large  policy  in  the  building  of  public 
roads  had  been  accepted  by  Congress  in  this  year. 
In  the  following  winter  Senator  Benton's  bill  pro- 
vided $30,000  to  mark  and  build  a  wagon  road 
from  Missouri  to  the  United  States  border  on  the 
Arkansas.  The  earliest  travellers  over  the  road 
reported  some  annoyance  from  the  Indians,  whose 
hungry,  curious,  greedy  bands  would  hang  around 
their  camps  to  beg  and  steal.  In  the  Osage  and 
Kansa  treaties  of  1825  these  tribes  agreed  to  let  the 
traders  traverse  the  country  in  peace. 

Indian  treaties  were  not  sufficient  to  protect  the 


THE  SANTA  FE  TRAIL  59 

Santa  Fe  trade.  The  long  journey  from  the  fringe 
of  settlement  to  the  Spanish  towns  eight  hundred 
miles  southwest  traversed  both  American  and  Mexi- 
can soil,  crossing  the  international  boundary  on  the 
Arkansas  near  the  hundredth  meridian.  The  Ind- 
ians of  the  route  knew  no  national  lines,  and  found 
a  convenient  refuge  against  pursuers  from  either 
nation  in  crossing  the  border.  There  was  no  military 
protection  to  the  frontier  at  the  American  end  of  the 
trail  until  in  1827  the  war  department  erected  a  new 
post  on  the  Missouri,  above  the  Kansas,  calling  it 
Fort  Leavenworth.  Here  a  few  regular  troops  were 
stationed  to  guard  the  border  and  protect  the  traders. 
The  post  was  due  as  much  to  the  new  Indian  con- 
centration policy  as  to  the  Santa  Fe  trade.  Its 
significance  was  double.  Yet  no  one  seems  to  have 
foreseen  that  the  development  of  the  trade  through 
the  Indian  Country  might  prevent  the  accomplish- 
ment of  Monroe's  ideal  of  an  Indian  frontier. 

From  Fort^  Leavenworth  occasional  escorts  of 
regulars  convoyed  the  caravans  to  the  Southwest. 
In  1829  four  companies  of  the  sixth  infantry,  under 
Maj  or  Riley,  were  on  duty.  They  j  oined  the  caravan 
at  the  usual  place  of  organization,  Council  Grove, 
a  few  days  west  of  the  Missouri  line,  and  marched 
with  it  to  the  confines  of  the  United  States.  Along 
the  march  there  had  been  some  worry  from  the  Ind- 
ians. After  the  caravan  and  escort  had  separated 
at  the  Arkansas  the  former,  going  on  alone  into 
Mexico,  was  scarcely  out  of  sight  of  its  guard  before 


60  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

it  was  dangerously  attacked.  Major  Riley  rose 
promptly  to  the  occasion.  He  immediately  crossed 
the  Arkansas  into  Mexico,  risking  the  consequences 
of  an  invasion  of  friendly  territory,  and  chastised  the 
Indians.  As  the  caravan  returned,  the  Mexican 
authorities  furnished  an  escort  of  troops  which 
marched  to  the  crossing.  Here  Major  Riley,  who 
had  been  waiting  for  them  at  Chouteau's  Island  all 
summer,  met  them.  He  entertained  the  Mexican 
officers  with  drill  while  they  responded  with  a  parade, 
chocolate,  and  "other  refreshments,"  as  his  report 
declares,  and  then  he  brought  the  traders  back  to  the 
States  by  the  beginning  of  November. 

There  was  some  criticism  in  the  United  States  of 
this  costly  use  of  troops  to  protect  a  private  trade. 
Hezekiah  Niles,  who  was  always  pleading  for  high 
protection  to  manufactures  and  receiving  less  than- 
he  wanted,  complained  that  the  use  of  four  com- 
panies during  a  whole  season  was  extravagant  pro- 
tection for  a  trade  whose  annual  profits  were  not 
over  $120,000.  The  special  convoy  was  rarely 
repeated  after  1829.  Fort  Leavenworth  and  the 
troops  gave  moral  rather  than  direct  support.  Colo- 
nel Dodge,  with  his  dragoons,  —  for  infantry  were 
soon  seen  to  be  ridiculous  in  Indian  campaigning,— 
made  long  expeditions  and  demonstrations  in  the 
thirties,  reaching  even  to  the  slopes  of  the  Rockies. 
And  the  Santa  Fe  caravans  continued  until  the  forties 
in  relative  safety. 

Two  years  after  Major  Riley 's  escort  occurred  an 


THE  SANTA  FE  TRAIL  61 

event  of  great  consequence  in  the  history  of  the 
Santa  Fe  trail.  Josiah  Gregg,  impelled  by  ill  health 
to  seek  a  change  of  climate,  made  his  first  trip  to 
Santa  Fe  in  1831.  As  an  individual  trader  Gregg 
would  call  for  no  more  comment  than  would  any  one 
who  crossed  the  plains  eight  times  in  a  single  decade. 
But  Gregg  was  no  mere  frontier  merchant.  He  was 
watching  and  thinking  during  his  entire  career, 
examining  into  the  details  of  Mexican  life  and  history 
and  tabulating  the  figures  of  the  traffic.  When  he 
finally  retired  from  the  plains  life  which  he  had  come 
to  love  so  well,  he  produced,  in  two  small  volumes, 
the  great  classic  of  the  trade:  "The  Commerce  of 
the  Prairies,  or  the  Journal  of  a  Santa  Fe  Trader." 
It  is  still  possible  to  check  up  details  and  add  small 
bits  of  fact  to  supplement  the  history  and  descrip- 
tion of  this  commerce  given  by  Gregg,  but  his  book 
remains,  and  is  likely  to  remain,  the  fullest  and  best 
source  of  information.  Gregg  had  power  of  scien- 
tific observation  and  historical  imagination,  which, 
added  to  unusual  literary  ability,  produced  a  mas- 
terpiece. 

The  Sante  Fe  trade,  begun  in  1822,  continued  with 
moderate  growth  until  1843.  This  was  its  period  of 
pioneer  development.  After  the  Mexican  War  the 
commerce  grew  to  a  vastly  larger  size,  reaching  its 
greatest  volume  in  the  sixties,  just  before  the  con- 
struction of  the  Pacific  railways.  But  in  its  later 
years  it  was  a  matter  of  greater  routine  and  less 
general  interest  than  in  those  years  of  commence- 


62  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

ment  during  which  it  was  educating  the  United  States 
to  a  more  complete  knowledge  of  the  southern  por- 
tion of  the  American  desert.  Gregg  gives  a  table 
in  which  he  shows  the  approximate  value  of  the  trade 
for  its  first  twenty-two  years.  To-day  it  seems 
strange  that  so  trifling  a  commerce  should  have  been 
national  in  its  character  and  influence.  In  only  one 
year,  1843,  does  he  find  that  the  eastern  value  of  the 
goods  sent  to  Santa  Fe  was  above  a  quarter  of  a 
million  dollars;  in  that  year  it  reached  $450,000, 
but  in  only  two  other  years  did  it  rise  to  the  quarter 
million  mark.  In  nine  years  it  was  under  $100,000. 
The  men  involved  were  a  mere  handful.  At  the 
start  nearly  every  one  of  the  seventy  men  in  the 
caravan  was  himself  a  proprietor.  The  total  num- 
ber increased  more  rapidly  than  the  number  of  inde- 
pendent owners.  Three  hundred  and  fifty  were  the 
most  employed  in  any  one  year.  The  twenty-six 
wagons  of  1824  became  two  hundred  and  thirty 
in  1843,  but  only  four  times  in  the  interval  were 
there  so  many  as  a  hundred. 

Yet  the  Santa  Fe  trade  was  national  in  its  im- 
portance. Its  romance  contained  a  constant  appeal 
to  a  public  that  was  reading  the  Indian  tales  of  James 
Fenimore  Cooper,  and  that  loved  stories  of  hardship 
and  adventure.  New  Mexico  was  a  foreign  country 
with  quaint  people  and  strange  habitations.  The 
American  desert,  not  much  more  than  a  chartless 
sea,  framed  and  emphasized  the  traffic.  If  one  must 
have  confirmation  of  the  truth  that  frontier  causes 


THE  SANTA  FE  TRAIL  ,       63 

have   produced   results   far   beyond   their   normal 
measure,  such  confirmation  may  be  found  here. 

The  traders  to  Santa  Fe  commonly  travelled  to- 
gether in  a  single  caravan  for  safety.  In  the  earlier 
years  they  started  overland  from  some  Missouri 
town  —  Franklin  most  often  —  to  a  rendezvous  at 
Council  Grove.  The  erection  of  Fort  Leavenworth 
and  an  increasing  navigation  of  the  Missouri  River 
made  possible  a  starting-point  further  west  than 
Franklin ;  hence  when  this  town  was  washed  into  the 
Missouri  in  1828  its  place  was  taken  by  the  new  settle- 
ment of  Independence,  further  up  the  river  and  only 
twelve  miles  from  the  Missouri  border.  Here  at 
Independence  was  done  most  of  the  general  outfitting 
in  the  thirties.  For  the  greater  part  of  the  year 
the  town  was  dead,  but  for  a  few  weeks  in  the  spring 
it  throbbed  with  the  rough-and-ready  life  of  the  fron- 
tier. Landing  of  traders  and  cargoes,  bartering  for 
mules  and  oxen,  building  and  repairing  wagons  and 
ox-yokes,  and  in  the  evening  drinking  and  gam- 
bling among  the  hard  men  soon  to  leave  port  for  the 
Southwest,  —  all  these  gave  to  Independence  its  name 
and  place.  From  Independence  to  Council  Grove, 
some  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  across  the  border, 
the  wagons  went  singly  or  in  groups.  At  the  Grove 
they  halted,  waiting  for  an  escort,  or  to  organize  in  a 
general  company  for  self-defence.  Here  in  ordinary 
years  the  assembled  traders  elected  a  captain  whose 
responsibility  was  complete,  and  whose  authority 
was  as  great  as  he  could  make  it  by  his  own  force. 


64  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Under  him  were  lieutenants,  and  under  the  command 
of  these  the  whole  company  was  organized  in  guards 
and  watches,  for  once  beyond  the  Grove  the  company 
was  in  dangerous  Indian  Country  in  which  eternal 
vigilance  was  the  price  of  safety. 

The  unit  of  the  caravan  was  the  wagon,  —  the 
same  Pittsburg  or  Conestoga  wagon  that  moved 
frontiersmen  whenever  and  wherever  they  had  to 
travel  on  land.  It  was  drawn  by  from  eight  to  twelve 
mules  or  oxen,  and  carried  from  three  to  five  thou- 
sand pounds  of  cargo.  Over  the  wagon  were  large 
arches  covered  with  Osnaburg  sheetings  to  turn 
water  and  protect  the  contents.  The  careful  freighter 
used  two  thicknesses  of  sheetings,  while  the  canny 
one  slipped  in  between  them  a  pair  of  blankets, 
which  might  thus  increase  his  comfort  outward 
bound,  and  be  in  an  inconspicuous  place  to  elude 
the  vigilance  of  the  customs  officials  at  Santa  Fe. 
Arms,  mounts,  and  general  equipment  were  innu- 
merable in  variation,  but  the  prairie  schooner,  as 
its  white  canopy  soon  named  it,  survived  through 
its  own  superiority. 

At  Council  Grove  the  desert  trip  began.  The  jour- 
ney now  became  one  across  a  treeless  prairie,  with 
water  all  too  rare,  and  habitations  entirely  lacking. 
The  first  stage  of  the  trail  crossed  the  country,  nearly 
west,  to  the  great  bend  of  the  Arkansas  River,  two 
hundred  and  seventy  miles  from  Independence.  Up 
the  Arkansas  it  ran  on,  past  Chouteau's  Island,  to 
Bent's  Fort,  near  La  Junta,  Colorado,  where  fur 


THE  SANTA  FE  TRAIL  65 

traders  had  established  a  post.  Water  was  most 
scarce.  Whether  the  caravan  crossed  the  river  at 
the  Cimarron  crossing  or  left  it  at  Bent's  Fort  to 
follow  up  the  Purgatoire,  the  pull  was  hard  on  trader 
and  on  stock.  His  oxen  often  reached  Santa  Fe 
with  scarcely  enough  strength  left  to  stand  alone. 
But  with  reasonable  success  and  skilful  guidance  the 
caravan  might  hope  to  surmount  all  these  difficulties 
and  at  last  enter  Santa  Fe,  seven  hundred  and  eighty 
miles  away,  in  from  six  to  seven  weeks  from  Inde- 
pendence. 

When  the  Mexican  War  came  in  1846,  the  Missouri 
frontier  was  familiar  with  all  of  the  long  trail  to  Santa 
Fe.  Even  in  the  East  there  had  come  to  be  some  real 
interest  in  and  some  accurate  knowledge  of  the  desert 
and  its  thoroughfares.  One  of  the  earliest  steps  in  the 
strategy  of  the  war  was  the  organization  of  an  Army 
of  the  West  at  Fort  Leavenworth,  with  orders  to 
march  overland  against  Mexico  and  Upper  California. 

Colonel  Stephen  W.  Kearny  was  given  command 
of  the  invading  army,  which  he  recruited  largely 
from  the  frontier  and  into  which  he  incorporated  a 
battalion  of  the  Mormon  emigrants  who  were,  in  the 
summer  of  1846,  near  Council  Bluffs,  on  their  way  to 
the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  country  beyond. 
Kearny  himself  knew  the  frontier,  duty  having  taken 
him  in  1845  all  the  way  to  the  mountains  and  back 
in  the  interest  of  policing  the  trails.  By  the  end  of 
June  he  was  ready  to  begin  the  march  towards 
Bent's  Fort  on  the  upper  Arkansas,  where  there  was 


66  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

to  be  a  common  rendezvous.  To  this  point  the 
army  marched  in  separate  columns,  far  enough  apart 
to  secure  for  all  the  force  sufficient  water  and  fodder 
from  the  plains.  Up  to  Bent's  Fort  the  march  was 
little  more  than  a  pleasure  jaunt.  The  trail  was  well 
known,  and  Indians,  never  likely  to  run  heedlessly 
into  danger,  were  well  behaved.  Beyond  Bent's 
Fort  the  advance  assumed  more  of  a  military  aspect, 
for  the  enemy's  country  had  been  entered  and 
resistance  by  the  Mexicans  was  anticipated  in  the 
mountain  passes  north  of  Santa  Fe.  But  the  resist- 
ance came  to  naught,  while  the  army,  footsore  and 
hot,  marched  easily  into  Santa  Fe  on  August  18, 1846. 
In  the  palace  of  the  governor  the  conquering  officers 
were  entertained  as  lavishly  as  the  resources  of  the 
provinces  would  permit.  "We  were  too  thirsty  to 
judge  of  its  merits,"  wrote  one  of  them  of  the  native 
wines  and  brandy  which  circulated  freely;  "anything 
liquid  and  cool  was  palatable."  With  little  more 
than  the  formality  of  taking  possession  New  Mexico 
thus  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  United  States,  while 
the  war  of  conquest  advanced  further  to  the  West. 
In  the  end  of  September  Kearny  started  out  from 
Santa  Fe  for  California,  where  he  arrived  early  in 
the  following  January. 

The  conquest  of  the  Southwest  extended  the  boun- 
dary of  the  United  States  to  the  Gila  and  the  Pacific, 
broadening  the  area  of  the  desert  within  the  United 
States  and  raising  new  problems  of  long-distance 
government  in  connection  with  the  populations  of 


THE  SANTA  FE  TRAIL  67 

New  Mexico  and  California.  The  Santa  Fe  trail, 
with  its  continuance  west  of  the  Rio  Grande,  became 
the  attenuated  bond  between  the  East  and  the  West. 
From  the  Missouri  frontier  to  California  the  way  was 
through  the  desert  and  the  Indian  Country,  with 
regular  settlements  in  only  one  region  along  the  route. 
The  reluctance  of  foreign  customs  officers  to  permit 
trade  disappeared  with  the  conquest,  so  that  the 
traffic  with  the  Southwest  and  California  boomed 
during  the  fifties. 

The  volume  of  the  traffic  expanded  to  proportions 
which  had  never  been  dreamed  of  before  the  conquest. 
Kearny's  baggage-trains  started  a  new  era  in  plains 
freighting.  The  armies  had  continuously  to  be 
supplied.  Regular  communication  had  to  be  main- 
tained for  the  new  Southwest.  But  the  freighting 
was  no  longer  the  adventurous  pioneering  of  the 
Santa  Fe  traders.  It  became  a  matter  of  business, 
running  smoothly  along  familiar  channels.  It  ceased 
to  have  to  do  with  the  extension  of  geographic  knowl- 
edge and  came  to  have  significance  chiefly  in  con- 
nection with  the  organization  of  overland  commerce. 
Between  the  Mexican  and  Civil  wars  was  its  new 
period  of  life.  Finally,  in  the  seventies,  it  gradually 
receded  into  history  as  the  tentacles  of  the  conti- 
nental railway  system  advanced  into  the  desert. 

The  Santa  Fe  trail  was  the  first  beaten  path  thrust 
in  advance  of  the  western  frontier.  Even  to-day  its 
course  may  be  followed  by  the  wheel  ruts  for  much  of 
the  distance  from  the  bend  of  the  Missouri  to  Santa 


68  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Fe.  Crossing  the  desert,  it  left  civilized  life  behind 
it  at  the  start,  not  touching  it  again  until  the  end 
was  reached.  For  nearly  fifty  years  after  the  trade 
began,  this  character  of  the  desert  remained  substan- 
tially unchanged.  Agricultural  settlement,  which 
had  rushed  west  along  the  Ohio  and  Missouri,  stopped 
at  the  bend,  and  though  the  trail  continued,  settle- 
ment would  not  follow  it.  The  Indian  country  and 
the  American  desert  remained  intact,  while  the  Santa 
Fe  trail,  in  advance  of  settlement,  pointed  the  way  of 
manifest  destiny,  as  no  one  of  the  eastern  trails  had 
ever  done.  When  the  new  states  grew  up  on  the  Pa- 
cific, the  desert  became  as  an  ocean  traversed  only 
by  the  prairie  schooners  in  their  beaten  paths. 
Islands  of  settlement  served  but  to  accentuate  the 
unpopulated  condition  of  the  Rocky  Mountain 
West. 

The  bend  of  the  Missouri  had  been  foreseen  by  the 
statesmen  of  the  twenties  as  the  limit  of  American 
advance.  It  might  have  continued  thus  had  there 
really  been  nothing  beyond  it.  But  the  profits  of 
the  trade  to  Santa  Fe  created  a  new  interest  and  a 
connecting  road.  In  nearly  the  same  years  the  call 
of  the  fur  trade  led  to  the  tracing  of  another  path  in 
the  wilderness,  running  to  a  new  goal.  Oregon  and 
the  fur  trade  had  stirred  up  so  much  interest  beyond 
the  Rockies  that  before  Kearny  marched  his  army 
into  Santa  Fe  another  trail  of  importance  equal  to 
his  had  been  run,  to  Oregon. 

The  maintenance  of  the  Indian  frontier  depended 


THE  SANTA  FE  TRAIL  69 

upon  the  ability  of  the  United  States  to  keep  whites 
out  of  the  Indian  Country.  But  with  Oregon  and 
Santa  F6  beyond,  this  could  never  be.  The  trails 
had  already  shown  the  fallacy  of  the  frontier  policy 
before  it  had  become  a  fact  in  1840. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   OREGON   TRAIL 

THE  Santa  Fe  trade  had  just  been  started  upon 
its  long  career  when  trappers  discovered  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  not  far  from  where  the  forty-second 
parallel  intersects  the  continental  divide,  an  easy 
crossing  by  which  access  might  be  had  from  the  wa- 
ters of  the  upper  Platte  to  those  of  the  Pacific  Slope. 
South  Pass,  as  this  passage  through  the  hills  soon 
came  to  be  called,  was  the  gateway  to  Oregon.  As 
yet  the  United  States  had  not  an  inch  "of  uncontested 
soil  upon  the  Pacific,  but  in  years  to  come  a  whole 
civilization  was  to  pour  over  the  upper  trail  to  people 
the  valley  of  the  Columbia  and  claim  it  for  new  states. 
The  Santa  Fe  trail  was  chiefly  the  route  of  commerce. 
The  Oregon  trail  became  the  pathway  of  a  people 
westward  bound. 

In  its  earliest  years  the  Oregon  trail  knew  only  the 
fur  traders,  those  nameless  pioneers  who  possessed 
an  accurate  rule-of-thumb  knowledge  of  every  hill 
and  valley  of  the  mountains  nearly  a  generation  be- 
fore the  surveyor  and  his  transit  brought  them  within 
the  circle  of  recorded  facts.  The  historian  of  the 
fur  trade,  Major  Hiram  Martin  Chittenden,  has 
tracked  out  many  of  them  with  the  same  laborious 

70 


THE   OREGON  TRAIL  71 

industry  that  carried  them  after  the  beaver  and  the 
other  marketable  furs.  When  they  first  appeared  is 
lost  in  tradition.  That  they  were  everywhere  in 
the  period  between  the  journey  of  Lewis  and  Clark, 
in  1805,  and  the  rise  of  Independence  as  an  outfitting 
post,  in  1832,  is  clearly  manifest.  That  they  dis- 
covered every  important  geographic  fact  of  the  West  ^> 
is  quite  as  certain  as  it  is  that  their  discoveries  were 
often  barren,  were  generally  unrecorded  in  a  formal 
way,  and  exercised  little  influence  upon  subsequent 
settlement  and  discovery.  Their  place  in  history  is 
similar  to  that  of  those  equally  nameless  ship  captains 
of  the  thirteenth  century  who  knew  and  charted  the 
shore  of  the  Mediterranean  at  a  time  when  scientific 
geographers  ^ere  yet  living  on  a  flat  earth  and  shap- 
ing cosmographies  from  the  Old  Testament.  Al- 
though the  fur-traders,  with  their  great  companies 
behind  them,  did  less  to  direct  the  future  than  their 
knowledge  of  geography  might  have  warranted,  they 
managed  to  secure  a  foothold  upon  the  Pacific  coast 
early  in  the  century.  Astoria,  in  1811,  was  only  a 
pawn  in  the  game  between  the  British  and  American 
organizations,  whose  control  over  Oregon  was  so 
confusing  that  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States, 
in  1818,  gave  up  the  task  of  drawing  a  boundary 
when  they  reached  the  Rockies,  and  allowed  the  coun- 
try beyond  to  remain  under  joint  occupation. 

In  the  thirties,  religious  enthusiasm  was  added  to 
the  profits  of  the  fur  trade  as  an  inducement  to  visit 
Oregon.  By  1832  the  trading  prospects  had  incited 


72  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

migration  outside  the  regular  companies.  Nathaniel 
J.  Wyeth  took  out  his  first  party  in  this  year.  He 
repeated  the  journey  with  a  second  party  in  1834. 
The  Methodist  church  sent  a  body  of  missionaries 
to  convert  the  western  Indians  in  this  latter  year. 
The  American  Board  of  Foreign  Missions  sent  out 
the  redoubtable  Marcus  Whitman  in  1835.  Before 
the  thirties  were  over  Oregon  had  become  a  house- 
hold word  through  the  combined  reports  of  traders 
and  missionaries.  Its  fertility  and  climate  were 
common  themes  in  the  lyceums  and  on  the  lecture 
platform;  while  the  fact  that  this  garden  might 
through  prompt  migration  be  wrested  from  the 
British  gave  an  added  inducement.  Joint  occupa- 
tion was  yet  the  rule,  but  the  time  was  approaching 
when  the  treaty  of  1818  might  be  denounced,  a  time 
when  Oregon  ought  to  become  the  admitted  property 
of  the  United  States.  The  thirties  ended  with  no 
large  migration  begun.  But  the  financial  crisis  of 
1837,  which  unsettled  the  frontier  around  the  Great 
Lakes,  provided  an  impoverished  and  restless  popu- 
lation ready  to  try  the  chance  in  the  farthest  West. 
A  growing  public  interest  in  Oregon  roused  the 
United  States  government  to  action  in  the  early 
forties.  The  Indians  of  the  Northwest  were  in  need 
of  an  agent  and  sound  advice.  The  exact  location 
of  the  trail,  though  the  trail  itself  was  fairly  well 
known,  had  not  been  ascertained.  Into  the  hands 
of  the  senators  from  Missouri  fell  the  task  of  inspir- 
ing the  action  and  directing  the  result.  Senator 


THE  OREGON  TRAIL  73 

Linn  was  the  father  of  bills  and  resolutions  looking 
towards  a  territory  west  of  the  mountains;  while 
Benton,  patron  of  the  fur  trade,  received  for  his  new 
son-in-law,  John  C.  Fremont,  a  detail  in  command 
of  an  exploring  party  to  the  South  Pass. 

The  career  of  Fremont,  the  Pathfinder,  covers 
twenty  years  of  great  publicity,  beginning  with  his 
first  command  in  1842.  On  June  10,  of  this  year, 
with  some  twenty-one  guides  and  men,  he  departed 
from  Cyprian  Chouteau's  place  on  the  Kansas,  ten 
miles  above  its  mouth.  He  shortly  left  the  Kansas, 
crossed  country  to  Grand  Island  in  the  Platte,  and 
followed  the  Platte  and  its  south  branch  to  St.Vrain's 
Fort  in  northern  Colorado,  where  he  arrived  in  thirty 
days.  From  St.Vrain's  he  skirted  the  foothills  north 
to  Fort  Laramie.  Thence,  ascending  the  Sweet- 
water,  he  reached  his  destination  at  South  Pass  on 
August  8,  just  one  day  previous  to  the  signing  of  the 
great  English  treaty  at  Washington.  At  South  Pass 
his  journey  of  observation  was  substantially  over. 
He  continued,  however,  for  a  few  days  along  the 
Wind  River  Range,  climbing  a  mountain  peak  and 
naming  it  for  himself.  By  October  he  was  back  in 
St.  Louis  with  his  party. 

In  the  spring  of  1843,  Fremont  started  upon  a 
second  and  more  extended  governmental  exploration 
to  the  Rockies.  This  time  he  followed  a  trail  along 
the  Kansas  River  and  its  Republican  branch  to  St. 
Vrain's,  whence  he  made  a  detour  south  to  Boiling 
Spring  and  Bent's  trading-post  on  the  Arkansas  River. 


74  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

Mules  were  scarce,  and  Colonel  Bent  was  relied  upon 
for  a  supply.  Returning  to  the  Platte,  he  divided 
his  company,  sending  part  of  it  over  his  course  of 
1842  to  Laramie  and  South  Pass,  while  he  led  his 
own  detachment  directly  from  St.  VrahVs  into  the 
Medicine  Bow  Range,  and  across  North  Park,  where 
rises  the  North  Platte.  Before  reaching  Fort  Hall, 
where  he  was  to  reunite  his  party,  he  made  another 
detour  to  Great  Salt  Lake,  that  he  might  feel  like 
Balboa  as  he  looked  upon  the  inland  sea.  From  Fort 
Hall,  which  he  reached  on  September  18,  he  followed 
the  emigrant  route  by  the  valley  of  the  Snake  to  the 
Dalles  of  the  Columbia. 

Whether  the  ocean  could  be  reached  by  any  river 
between  the  Columbia  and  Colorado  was  a  matter  of 
much  interest  to  persons  concerned  with  the  control 
of  the  Pacific.  The  facts,  well  enough  known  to  the 
trappers,  had  not  yet  received  scientific  record  when 
Fremont  started  south  from  the  Dalles  in  November, 
1843,  to  ascertain  them.  His  march  across  the  Ne- 
vada desert  was  made  in  the  dead  of  winter  under 
difficulties  that  would  have  brought  a  less  resolute 
explorer  to  a  stop.  It  ended  in  March,  1844,  at 
Sutter's  ranch  in  the  Sacramento  Valley,  with  half 
his  horses  left  upon  the  road.  His  homeward  march 
carried  him  into  southern  California  and  around  the 
sources  of  the  Colorado,  proving  by  recorded  obser- 
vation the  difficult  character  of  the  country  between 
the  mountains  and  the  Pacific. 

In  following  years  the  Pathfinder  revisited  the 


THE   OREGON   TRAIL  75 

scenes  of  these  two  expeditions  upon  which  his  repu- 
tation is  chiefly  based.  _A  man  of  resolution  and  mod- 
erate ability,  the  glory  attendant  upon  his  work  turned 
his  head.  His  later  failures  in  the  face  of  military 
problems  far  beyond  his  comprehension  tended  to 
belittle  the  significance  of  his  earlier  career,  but  his- 
tory may  well  agree  with  the  eminent  English  travel- 
ler, Burton,  who  admits  that :  "  Every  foot  of  ground 
passed  over  by  Colonel  Fremont  was  perfectly  well 
known  to  the  old  trappers  and  traders,  as  the  in- 
terior of  Africa  to  the  Arab  and  Portuguese  pom- 
beiros.  But  this  fact  takes  nothing  away  from  the 
honors  of  the  man  who  first  surveyed  and  scientifi- 
cally observed  the  country."  Through  these  two 
journeys  the  Pacific  West  rose  in  clear  definition 
above  the  American  intellectual  horizon.  "The 
American  Eagle,"  quoth  the  Platte  (Missouri)  Eagle 
in  1843,  "is  flapping  his  wings,  the  precurser  [sic] 
of  the  end  of  the  British  lion,  on  the  shores  of  the 
Pacific.  Destiny  has  willed  it." 

The  year  in  which  Fremont  made  his  first  expedi- 
tion to  the  mountains  was  also  the  year  of  the  first 
formal,  conducted  emigration  to  Oregon.  Mission- 
aries beyond  the  mountains  had  urged  upon  Congress 
the  appointment  of  an  American  representative  and 
magistrate  for  the  country,  with  such  effect  that 
Dr.  Elijah  White,  who  had  some  acquaintance  with 
Oregon,  was  sent  out  as  sub-Indian  agent  in  the 
spring  of  1842.  With  him  began  the  regular  mi- 
gration of  homeseekers  that  peopled  Oregon  during 


76  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

the  next  ten  years.  His  emigration  was  not  large, 
perhaps  eighteen  Pennsylvania  wagons  and  130  per- 
sons; but  it  seems  to  have  been  larger  than  he  ex- 
pected, and  large  enough  to  raise  doubt  as  to  the 
practicability  of  taking  so  many  persons  across  the 
plains  at  once.  In  the  decade  following,  every  May, 
when  pasturage  was  fresh  and  green,  saw  pioneers 
gathering,  with  or  without  premeditation,  at  the 
bend  of  the  Missouri,  bound  for  Oregon.  Indepen- 
dence and  its  neighbor  villages  continued  to  be  the 
posts  of  outfit.  How  many  in  the  aggregate  crossed 
the  plains  can  never  be  determined,  in  spite  of  the 
efforts  of  the  pioneer  societies  of  Oregon  to  record 
their  names.  The  distinguishing  feature  of  the 
emigration  was  its  spontaneous  individualistic  char- 
acter. Small  parties,  too  late  for  the  caravan,  fre- 
quently set  forth  alone.  Single  families  tried  it 
often  enough  to  have  their  wanderings  recorded  in 
the  border  papers.  In  the  spring  following  the  cross- 
ing of  Elijah  White  emigrants  gathered  by  hundreds 
at  the  Missouri  ferries,  until  an  estimate  of  a  thou- 
sand in  all  is  probably  not  too  high.  In  1844  the 
tide  subsided  a  little,  but  in  1845  it  established  a 
new  mark  in  the  vicinity  of  three  thousand,  and  in 
1847  ran  between  four  and  five  thousand.  These 
were  the  highest  figures,  yet  throughout  the  decade 
the  current  flowed  unceasingly. 

The  migration  of  1843,  the  earliest  of  the  fat  years, 
may  be  taken  as  typical  of  the  Oregon  movement. 
Early  in  the  year  faces  turned  toward  the  Missouri 


THE  OREGON  TRAIL  77 

rendezvous.  Men,  women,  and  children,  old  and 
young,  with  wagons  and  cattle,  household  equipment, 
primitive  sawmills,  and  all  the  impedimenta  of  civil- 
ization were  to  be  found  in  the  hopeful  crowd.  For 
some  days  after  departure  the  unwieldy  party,  a 
thousand  strong,  with  twice  as  many  cattle  and 
beasts  of  burden,  held  together  under  Burnett,  their 
chosen  captain.  But  dissension  beyond  his  control 
soon  split  the  company.  In  addition  to  the  general 
fear  that  the  number  was  dangerously  high,  the  poorer 
emigrants  were  jealous  of  the  rich.  Some  of  the  latter 
had  in  their  equipment  cattle  and  horses  by  the  score, 
and  as  the  poor  man  guarded  these  from  the  Indian 
thieves  during  his  long  night  watches  he  felt  the 
injustice  which  compelled  him  to  protect  the  prop- 
erty of  another.  Hence  the  party  broke  early  in 
June.  A  "cow  column"  was  formed  of  those  who 
had  many  cattle  and  heavy  belongings;  the  lighter 
body  went  on  ahead,  though  keeping  within  support- 
ing distance;  and  under  two  captains  the  procession 
moved  on.  The  way  was  tedious  rather  than  diffi- 
cult, but  habit  soon  developed  in  the  trains  a  life 
that  was  full  and  complete.  Oregon,  one  of  the 
migrants  of  1842  had  written,  was  a  "great  country 
for  unmarried  gals."  Courtship  and  marriage  be- 
gan almost  before  the  States  were  out  of  sight. 
Death  and  burial,  crime  and  punishment,  filled  out 
the  round  of  human  experience,  while  Dr.  Whitman 
was  more  than  once  called  upon  in  his  professional 
capacity  to  aid  in  the  enlargement  of  the  band. 


78  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

The  trail  to  Oregon  was  the  longest  road  yet  de- 
veloped in  the  United  States.  It  started  from  the 
Missouri  River  anywhere  between  Independence  and 
Council  Bluffs.  In  the  beginning,  Independence 
was  the  common  rendezvous,  but  as  the  agricultural 
frontier  advanced  through  Iowa  in  the  forties  nu- 
merous new  crossings  and  ferries  were  made  further 
up  the  stream.  From  the  various  ferries  the  start 
began,  as  did  the  Santa  Fe  trade,  sometime  in  May. 
By  many  roads  the  wagons  moved  westward  towards 
the  point  from  which  the  single  trail  extended  to  the 
mountains.  East  of  Grand  Island,  where  the  Platte- 
River  reaches  its  most  southerly  point,  these  routes 
from  the  border  were  nearly  as  numerous  as  the  cara- 
vans, but  here  began  the  single  highway  along  the 
river  valley,  on  its  southern  side.  At  this  point, 
in  the  years  immediately  after  the  Mexican  War,  the 
United  States  founded  a  military  post  to  protect 
the  emigrants,  naming  it  for  General  Stephen  W. 
Kearny,  commander  of  the  Army  of  the  West.  From 
Fort  Kearney  (custom  soon  changed  the  spelling 
of  the  name)  to  the  fur-trading  post  at  Laramie 
Creek  the  trail  followed  the  river  and  its  north  fork. 
Fort  Laramie  itself  was  bought  from  the  fur  company 
and  converted  into  a  military  post  which  became 
a  second  great  stopping-place  for  the  emigrants. 
Shortly  west  of  Laramie,  the  Sweetwater  guided  the 
trail  to  South  Pass,  where,  through  a  gap  twenty 
miles  in  width,  the  main  commerce  between  the 
Mississippi  Valley  and  the  Pacific  was  forced  to  go. 


THE  OREGON  TRAIL  79 

Beyond  South  Pass,  Wyeth's  old  Fort  Hall  was  the 
next  post  of  importance  on  the  road.  From  Fort 
Hall  to  Fort  Bois6  the  trail  continued  down  the 
Snake,  cutting  across  the  great  bend  of  the  river  to 
meet  the  Columbia  near  Walla  Walla. 

The  journey  to  Oregon  took  about  five  months. 
Its  deliberate,  domesticated  progress  was  as  differ- 
ent as  might  be  from  the  commercial  rush  to  Santa 
Fe.  Starting  too  late,  the  emigrant  might  easily 
get  caught  in  the  early  mountain  winter,  but  with 
a  prompt  start  and  a  wise  guide,  or  pilot,  winter 
always  found  the  homeseeker  in  his  promised  land. 
"This  is  the  right  manner  to  settle  the  Oregon 
question/'  wrote  Niles,  after  he  had  counted  over 
the  emigrants  of  1844. 

Before  the  great  migration  of  1843  reached  Ore- 
gon the  pioneers  already  there  had  taken  the  law  to 
themselves  and  organized  a  provisional  government 
in  the  Willamette  Valley.  The  situation  here,  un- 
der the  terms  of  the  joint  occupation  treaty,  was 
one  of  considerable  uncertainty.  National  interests 
prompted  settlers  to  hope  and  work  for  future  con- 
trol by  one  country  or  the  other,  while  advantage 
seemed  to  incline  to  the  side  of  Dr.  McLoughlin,  the 
generous  factor  of  the  British  fur  companies.  But 
the  aggressive  Americans  of  the  early  migrations  were 
restive  under  British  leadership.  They  were  fear- 
ful also  lest  future  American  emigration  might  carry 
political  control  out  of  their  hands  into  the  manage- 
ment of  newcomers.  Death  and  inheritance  among 


80  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

their  number  had  pointed  to  a  need  for  civil  institu- 
tions. In  May,  1843,  with  all  the  ease  invariably 
shown  by  men  of  Anglo-Saxon  blood  when  isolated 
together  in  the  wilderness,  they  formed  a  voluntary 
association  for  government  and  adopted  a  code  of 
laws. 

Self-confidence,  the  common  asset  of  the  West, 
was  not  absent  in  this  newest  American  community. 
"A  few  months  since,"  wrote  Elijah  White,  "at  our 
Oregon  lyceum,  it  was  unanimously  voted  that  the 
colony  of  Wallamette  held  out  the  most  flattering 
encouragement  to  immigrants  of  any  colony  on  the 
globe."  In  his  same  report  to  the  Commissioner  of 
Indian  Affairs,  the  sub-Indian  agent  described  the 
course  of  events.  ' '  During  my  up-country  excursion, 
the  whites  of  the  colony  convened,  and  formed  a  code 
of  laws  to  regulate  intercourse  between  themselves 
during  the  absence  of  law  from  our  mother  country, 
adopting  in  almost  all  respects  the  Iowa  code.  In  this 
I  was  consulted,  and  encouraged  the  measure,  as  it 
was  so  manifestly  necessary  for  the  collection  of 
debts,  securing  rights  in  claims,  and  the  regulation  of 
general  intercourse  among  the  whites." 

A  messenger  was  immediately  sent  east  to  beg  Con- 
gress for  the  extension  of  United  States  laws  and  juris- 
diction over  the  territory.  His  journey  was  six 
months  later  than  the  winter  ride  of  Marcus  Whit- 
man, who  went  to  Boston  to  save  the  missions  of  the 
American  Board  from  abandonment,  and  might  with 
better  justice  than  Whitman's  be  called  the  ride  to 


THE  OREGON  TRAIL  81 

save  Oregon.  But  Oregon  was  in  no  danger  of  being 
lost,  however  dilatory  Congress  might  be.  The  little 
illegitimate  government  settled  down  to  work,  its 
legislative  committee  enacted  whatever  laws  were 
needed  for  local  regulation,  and  a  high  degree  of  law 
and  order  prevailed. 

Sometimes  the  action  of  the  Americans  must  have 
been  meddlesome  and  annoying  to  the  English  and 
Canadian  trappers.  In  the  free  manners  of  the  first 
half  of  the  nineteenth  century  the  use  of  strong 
drink  was  common  throughout  the  country  and  uni- 
versal along  the  frontier.  "  A  family  could  get  along 
very  well  without  butter,  wheat  bread,  sugar,  or  tea, 
but  whiskey  was  as  indispensable  to  housekeeping 
as  corn-meal,  bacon,  coffee,  tobacco,  and  molasses. 
It  was  always  present  at  the  house  raising,  harvest- 
ing, road  working,  shooting  matches,  corn  husking, 
weddings,  and  dances.  It  was  never  out  of  order 
' where  two  or  three  were  gathered  together/'  Yet 
along  with  this  frequent  intemperance,  a  violent 
abstinence  movement  was  gaining  way.  Many  of 
the  Oregon  pioneers  came  from  Iowa  and  the  new 
Northwest,  full  of  the  new  crusade  and  ready  to 
support  it.  Despite  the  lack  of  legal  right,  though 
with  every  moral  justification,  attempts  were  made  to 
crush  the  liquor  traffic  with  the  Indians.  White  tells 
of  a  mass  meeting  authorizing  him  to  take  action  on 
his  own  responsibility;  of  his  enlisting  a  band  of 
coadjutors;  and,  finally,  of  finding  "the  distillery  in 
a  deep,  dense  thicket,  11  miles  from  town,  at  3  o'clock 


82  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

P.M.  The  boiler  was  a  large  size  potash  kettle,  and 
all  the  apparatus  well  accorded.  Two  hogsheads  and 
eight  barrels  of  slush  or  beer  were  standing  ready  for 
distillation,  with  part  of  one  barrel  of  molasses.  No 
liquor  was  to  be  found,  nor  as  yet  had  much  been  dis- 
tilled. Having  resolved  on  my  course,  I  left  no  time 
for  reflection,  but  at  once  upset  the  nearest  cask, 
when  my  noble  volunteers  immediately  seconded 
my  measures,  making  a  river  of  beer  in  a  moment; 
nor  did  we  stop  till  the  kettle  was  raised,  and  ele- 
vated in  triumph  at  the  prow  of  our  boat,  and  every 
cask,  with  all  the  distilling  apparatus,  was  broken  to 
pieces  and  utterly  destroyed.  We  then  returned, 
in  high  cheer,  to  the  town,  where  our  presence  and 
report  gave  general  joy." 

The  provisional  government  lasted  for  several 
years,  with  a  fair  degree  of  respect  shown  to  it  by  its 
citizens.  Like  other  provisional  governments,  it 
was  weakest  when  revenue  was  in  question,  but  its 
courts  of  justice  met  and  satisfied  a  real  need  of  the 
settlers.  It  was  long  after  regular  settlement  began 
before  Congress  acquired  sure  title  to  the  country 
and  could  pass  laws  for  it. 

The  Oregon  question,  muttering  in  the  thirties, 
thus  broke  out  loudly  in  the  forties.  Emigrants  then 
rushed  west  in  the  great  migrations  with  deliberate 
purpose  to  have  and  to  hold.  Once  there,  they  de- 
manded, with  absolute  confidence,  that  Congress 
protect  them  in  their  new  homes.  The  stories  of  the 
election  of  1844,  the  Oregon  treaty  of  1846,  and  the 


THE  OREGON  TRAIL  83 

erection  of  a  territorial  government  in  1848  would  all 
belong  to  an  intimate  study  of  the  Oregon  trail. 

In  the  election  of  1844  Oregon  became  an  impor- 
tant question  in  practical  politics.  Well-informed 
historians  no  longer  believe  that  the  annexation  of 
Texas  was  the  result  of  nothing  but  a  deep-laid  plot  of 
slaveholders  to  acquire  more  lands  for  slave  states 
and  more  southern  senators.  All  along  the  frontier, 
whether  in  Illinois,  Wisconsin,  and  Iowa,  or  in  Ar- 
kansas, Alabama,  and  Mississippi,  population  was 
restive  under  hard  times  and  its  own  congenital  in- 
stinct to  move  west  to  cheaper  lands.  Speculation 
of  the  thirties  had  loaded  up  the  eastern  states  with 
debts  and  taxes,  from  which  the  states  could  not  es- 
cape with  honor,  but  from  under  which  their  indi- 
vidual citizens  could  emigrate.  Wherever  farm 
lands  were  known,  there  went  the  home-seekers,  and 
it  needs  no  conspiracy  explanation  to  account  for  the 
presence,  in  the  platform,  of  a  party  that  appealed  to 
the  great  plain  people,  of  planks  for  the  reannexation 
of  Texas  and  the  whole  of  Oregon.  With  a  Demo- 
cratic party  strongest  in  the  South,  the  former  ex- 
tension was  closer  to  the  heart,  but  the  whole  West 
could  subscribe  to  both. 

Oregon  included  the  whole  domain  west  of  the 
Rockies,  between  Spanish  Mexico  at  42°  and  Russian 
America,  later  known  as  Alaska,  at  54°  40'.  Its 
northern  and  southern  boundaries  were  clearly  es- 
tablished in  British  and  Spanish  treaties.  Its  east- 
ern limit  by  the  old  treaty  of  1818  was  the  conti- 


84  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

nental  divide,  since  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain  were  unable  either  to  allot  or  apportion  it. 
Title  which  should  justify  a  claim  to  it  was  so  equally 
divided  between  the  contesting  countries  that  it  would 
be  difficult  to  make  out  a  positive  claim  for  either, 
while  in  fact  a  compromise  based  upon  equal  division 
was  entirely  fair.  But  the  West  wanted  all  of  Ore- 
gon with  an  eagerness  that  saw  no  flaw  in  the  United 
States  title.  That  the  democratic  party  was  sincere 
in  asking  for  all  of  it  in  its  platform  is  clearer  with 
respect  to  the  rank  and  file  of  the  organization  than 
with  the  leaders  of  the  party.  Certain  it  is  that  just 
so  soon  as  the  execution  of  the  Texas  pledge  provoked 
a  war  with  Mexico,  President  Polk,  himself  both  a 
westerner  and  a  frontiersman,  was  ready  to  eat  his 
words  and  agree  with  his  British  adversary  quickly. 
Congress  desired,  after  Polk's  election  in  1844,  to 
serve  a  year's  notice  on  Great  Britain  and  bring  joint 
occupation  to  an  end.  But  more  pacific  advices 
prevailed  in  the  mouth  of  James  Buchanan,  Secretary 
of  State,  so  that  the  United  States  agreed  to  accept 
an  equitable  division  instead  of  the  whole  or  none. 
The  Senate,  consulted  in  advance  upon  the  change  of 
policy,  gave  its  approval  both  before  and  after  to  the 
treaty  which,  signed  June  15,  1846,  extended  the 
boundary  line  of  49°  from  the  Rockies  to  the  Pacific. 
The  settled  half  of  Oregon  and  the  greater  part  of 
the  Columbia  River  thus  became  American  terri- 
tory, subject  to  such  legislation  as  Congress  should 
prescribe. 


THE  OREGON  TRAIL  85 

A  territory  of  Oregon,  by  law  of  1848,  was  the  re- 
sult of  the  establishment  of  the  first  clear  American 
title  on  the  Pacific.  All  that  the  United  States  had 
secured  in  the  division  was  given  the  popular  name. 
Missionary  activity  and  the  fur  trade,  and,  above  all, 
popular  agricultural  conquest,  had  established  the 
first  detached  American  colony,  with  the  desert 
separating  it  from  the  mother  country.  The  trail 
was  already  well  known  to  thousands,  and  so  clearly 
defined  by  wheel  ruts  and  debris  along  the  sides 
that  even  the  blind  could  scarce  wander  from  the 
beaten  path.  A  temporary  government,  sufficient 
for  the  immediate  needs  of  the  inhabitants,  had  at 
once  paved  the  way  for  the  legitimate  territory  and 
revealed  the  high  degree  of  law  and  morality  prevail- 
ing in  the  population.  Already  the  older  settlers 
were  prosperous,  and  the  first  chapter  in  the  history 
of  Oregon  was  over.  A  second  great  trail  had  still 
further  weakened  the  hold  of  the  American  desert 
over  the  American  mind,  endangering,  too,  the 
Indian  policy  that  was  dependent  upon  the  desert 
for  its  continuance. 


CHAPTER  VI 

OVERLAND   WITH  THE   MORMONS 

THE  story  of  the  settlement  and  winning  of  Ore- 
gon is  but  a  small  portion  of  the  whole  history  of  the 
Oregon  trail.  The  trail  was  not  only  the  road  to 
Oregon,  but  it  was  the  chief  road  across  the  continent. 
Santa  Fe  dominated  a  southern  route  that  was  im- 
portant in  commerce  and  conquest,  and  that  could 
be  extended  west  to  the  Pacific.  But  the  deep  ra- 
vine of  the  Colorado  River  splits  the  United  States 
into  sections  with  little  chance  of  intercourse  below 
the  fortieth  parallel.  To-day,  in  only  two  places 
south  of  Colorado  do  railroads  bridge  it;  only 
one  stage  route  of  importance  ever  crossed  it.  The 
southern  trail  could  not  be  compared  in  its  traffic  or 
significance  with  the  great  middle  highway  by  South 
Pass  which  led  by  easy  grades  from  the  Missouri 
River  and  the  Platte,  not  only  to  Oregon  but  to 
California  and  Great  Salt  Lake. 

Of  the  waves  of  influence  that  drew  population 
along  the  trail,  the  Oregon  fever  came  first;  but  while 
it  was  still  raging,  there  came  the  Mormon  trek  that 
is  without  any  parallel  in  American  history.  Through- 
out the  lifetime  of  the  trails  the  American  desert 
extended  almost  unbroken  from  the  bend  of  the 

86 


OVERLAND   WITH  THE   MORMONS  87 

Missouri  to  California  and  Oregon.  The  Mormon 
settlement  in  Utah  became  at  once  the  most  con- 
siderable colony  within  this  area,  and  by  its  own 
fertility  emphasized  the  barren  nature  of  the  rest. 

Of  the  Mormons,  Joseph  Smith  was  the  prophet, 
but  it  would  be  fair  to  ascribe  the  parentage  of  the 
sect  to  that  emotional  upheaval  of  the  twenties  and 
thirties  which  broke  down  barriers  of  caste  and 
politics,  ruptured  many  of  the  ordinary  Christian 
churches,  and  produced  new  revelations  and  new 
prophets  by  the  score.  Joseph  Smith  was  merely 
one  of  these,  more  astute  perhaps  than  the  others, 
having  much  of  the  wisdom  of  leadership,  as  Mo- 
hammed had  had  before  him,  and  able  to  direct  and 
hold  together  the  enthusiasm  that  any  prophet 
might  have  been  able  to  arouse.  History  teaches 
that  it  is  easy  to  provoke  religious  enthusiasm, 
however  improbable  or  fraudulent  the  guides  or 
revelations  may  be;  but  that  the  founding  of  a 
church  upon  it  is  a  task  for  greatest  statesmanship. 

The  discovery  of  the  golden  plates  and  the  magic 
spectacles,  and  the  building  upon  them  of  a  mili- 
tant church  has  little  part  in  the  conquest  of  the 
frontier  save  as  a  motive  force.  It  is  difficult  for 
the  gentile  mind  to  treat  the  Book  of  Mormon  other 
than  as  a  joke,  and  its  perpetrator  as  a  successful 
charlatan.  Mormon  apologists  and  their  enemies 
have  gone  over  the  details  of  its  production  without 
establishing  much  sure  evidence  on  either  side.  The 
theological  teaching  of  the  church  seems  to  put  less 


88  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

stress  upon  it  than  its  supposed  miraculous  origin 
would  dictate.  It  is,  wrote  Mark  Twain,  with  his 
light-hearted  penetration,  "  rather  stupid  and  tire- 
some to  read,  but  there  is  nothing  vicious  in  its 
teachings.  Its  code  of  morals  is  unobjectionable  — 
it  is  'smouehed'  from  the  New  Testament  and  no 
credit  given. "  Converts  came  slowly  to  the  new 
prophet  at  the  start,  for  he  was  but  one  of  many 
teachers  crying  in  the  wilderness,  and  those  who  had 
known  him  best  in  his  youth  were  least  ready  to  see 
in  him  a  custodian  of  divinity.  Yet  by  the  spring 
of  1830  it  was  possible  to  organize,  in  western  New 
York,  the  body  which  Rigdon  was  later  to  christen 
the  "  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints.7' 
By  the  spring  of  1831  headquarters  had  moved  to 
Kirtland,  Ohio,  where  proselyting  had  proved  to  be 
successful  in  both  religion  and  finance. 

Kirtland  was  but  a  temporary  abode  for  the  new 
sect.  Revelations  came  in  upon  the  prophet  rapidly, 
pointing  out  the  details  of  organization  and  adminis- 
tration, the  duty  of  missionary  activity  among  the 
Indians  and  gentiles,  and  the  future  home  further 
to  the  west.  Scouts  were  sent  to  the  Indian  Country 
at  an  early  date,  leaving  behind  at  Kirtland  the 
leaders  to  build  their  temple  and  gather  in  the  con- 
verts who,  by  1833  and  1834,  had  begun  to  appear  in 
hopeful  numbers.  The  frontier  of  this  decade  was 
equally  willing  to  speculate  in  religion,  agriculture, 
banking,  or  railways,  while  Smith  and  his  intimates 
possessed  the  germ  of  leadership  to  take  advantage 


OVERLAND  WITH  THE  MORMONS  89 

of  every  chance.  Until  the  panic  of  1837  they  flour- 
ished, apparently  not  always  beyond  reproach  in 
financial  affairs,  but  with  few  neighbors  who  had 
the  right  to  throw  the  stone.  Antagonism,  already 
appearing  against  the  church,  was  due  partly  to  an 
essential  intolerance  among  their  frontier  neighbors 
and  partly  to  the  whole-souled  union  between  church 
and  life  which  distinguished  the  Mormons  from  the 
other  sects.  Their  political  complexion  was  iden- 
tical with  their  religion,  —  a  combination  which 
always  has  aroused  resentment  in  America. 

For  a  western  home,  the  leaders  fell  upon  a  tract 
in  Missouri,  not  far  from  Independence,  close  to 
the  Indians  whose  conversion  was  a  part  of  the  Mor- 
mon duty.  In  the  years  when  Oregon  and  Santa 
Fe  were  by-words  along  the  Missouri,  the  Mormons 
were  getting  a  precarious  foothold  near  the  commence- 
ment of  the  trails.  The  population  around  Inde- 
pendence was  distinctly  inhospitable,  with  the  result 
that  petty  violence  appeared,  in  which  it  is  hard  to 
place  the  blame.  There  was  a  calm  assurance  among 
the  Saints  that  they  and  they  alone  were  to  inherit 
the  earth.  Their  neighbors  maintained  that  poultry 
and  stock  were  unsafe  in  their  vicinity  because  of 
this  belief.  The  Mormons  retaliated  with  charges 
of  well-spoiling,  incendiarism,  and  violence.  In  all 
the  bickerings  the  sources  of  information  are  partisan 
and  cloudy  with  prejudice,  so  that  it  is  easier  to  see 
the  disgraceful  scuffle  than  to  find  the  culprit.  From 
the  south  side  of  the  Missouri  around  Independence 


90  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

the  Saints  were  finally  driven  across  the  river  by 
armed  mobs ;  a  transaction  in  which  the  Missourians 
spoke  of  a  sheriff's  posse  and  maintaining  the  peace. 
North  of  the  river  the  unsettled  frontier  was  reached 
in  a  few  miles,  and  there  at  Far  West,  in  Caldwell 
County,  they  settled  down  at  last,  to  build  their 
tabernacle  and  found  their  Zion.  In  the  summer  of 
1838  their  corner-stone  was  laid. 

Far  West  remained  their  goal  in  belief  longer  than 
in  fact.  Before  1838  ended  they  had  been  forced  to 
agree  to  leave  Missouri ;  yet  they  returned  in  secret 
to  relay  the  corner-stone  of  the  tabernacle  and  con- 
tinued to  dream  of  this  as  their  future  home.  Up  to 
the  time  of  their  expulsion  from  Missouri  in  1838 
they  are  not  proved  to  have  been  guilty  of  any  crime 
that  could  extenuate  the  gross  intolerance  which 
turned  them  out.  As  individuals  they  could  live 
among  Gentiles  in  peace.  It  seems  to  have  been  the 
collective  soul  of  the  church  that  was  unbearable  to 
the  frontiersmen.  The  same  intolerance  which  had 
facilitated  their  departure  from  Ohio  and  compelled 
it  from  Missouri,  in  a  few  more  years  drove  them 
again  on  their  migrations.  The  cohesion  of  the 
church  in  politics,  economics,  and  religion  explains 
the  opposition  which  it  cannot  well  excuse. 

In  Hancock  County,  Illinois,  not  far  from  the  old 
Fort  Madison  ferry  which  led  into  the  half-breed 
country  of  Iowa,  the  Mormons  discovered  a  village 
of  Commerce,  once  founded  by  a  communistic  set- 
tlement from  which  the  business  genius  of  Smith 


OVERLAND   WITH  THE  MORMONS  91 

now  purchased  it  on  easy  terms.  It  was  occupied  in 
1839,  renamed  N^uvopJjLlS.40,  and  in  it  a  new  taber- 
nacle was  begun  in  1 84 1 .  From  the  poverty-stricken 
young  clairvoyant  of  fifteen  years  before,  the  prophet 
had  now  developed  into  a  successful  man  of  affairs, 
with  ambitions  that  reached  even  to  the  presidency 
at  Washington.  With  a  strong  sect  behind  him, 
money  at  his  disposal,  and  supernatural  powers  in 
which  all  faithful  saints  believed,  Joseph  could  go 
far.  Nauvoo  had  a  population  of  about  fifteen 
thousand  by  the  end  of  1840. 

Coming  into  Illinois  upon  the  eve  of  a  closely 
contested  presidential  election,  at  a  time  when  the 
state  feared  to  lose  its  population  in  an  emigration 
to  avoid  taxation,  and  with  a  vote  that  was  certain  to 
be  cast  for  one  candidate  or  another  as  a  unit,  the 
Mormons  insured  for  themselves  a  hearty  wglcoine 
from  both  Democrats  and  Whigs.  A  complaisant 
legislature  gave  to  the  new  Zion  a  charter  full  of 
privilege  in  the  making  and  enforcing  of  laws,  so 
that  the  ideal  of  the  Mormons  of  a  state  within  the 
state  was  fully  realized.  The  town  council  was 
emancipated  from  state  control,  its  courts  were  inde- 
pendent, and  its  militia  was  substantially  at  the  beck 
of  Smith.  Proselyting  and  good  management  built 
up  the  town  rapidly.  To  an  importunate  creditor 
Smith  described  it  as  a  " deathly  sickly  hole,"  but 
to  the  possible  convert  it  was  advertised  as  a  land  of 
milk  and  honey.  Here  it  began  to  be  noticed  that 
desertions  from  the  church  were  not  uncommon ;  that 


92  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

conversion  alone  kept  full  and  swelled  its  ranks. 
It  was  noised  about  that  the  wealthy  convert  had 
the  warmest  reception,  but  was  led  on  to  let  his 
religious  passion  work  his  impoverishment  for  the 
good  of  the  cause. 

Here  in  Nauvoo  it  was  that  the  leaders  of  the 
church  took  the  decisive  step  that  carried  Mormon- 
ism  beyond  the  pale  of  the  ordinary,  tolerable,  reli- 
gious sects.  Rumors  of  immorality  circulated 
among  the  Gentile  neighbors.  It  was  bad  enough, 
they  thought,  to  have  the  Mormons  chronic  petty 
thieves,  but  the  license  that  was  believed  to  prevail 
among  the  leaders  was  more  than  could  be  endured 
by  a  community  that  did  not  count  this  form  of  in- 
iquity among  its  own  excesses.  The  Mormons  were 
in  general  of  the  same  stamp  as  their  fellow  frontiers- 
men until  they  took  to  this.  At  the  time,  all  im- 
morality was  denounced  and  denied  by  the  prophet 
and  his  friends,  but  in  later  years  the  church  made 
public  a  revelation  concerning  celestial  or  plural 
marriage,  with  the  admission  that  Joseph  Smith  had 
received  it  in  the  summer  of  1843.  Never  does 
Mormon  polygamy  seem  to  have  been  as  prevalent 
as  its  enemies  have  charged.  But  no  church  coun- 
tenancing the  practice  could  hope  to  be  endured  by 
an  American  community.  The  odium  of  practising  it 
was  increased  by  the  hypocrisy  which  denied  it.  It 
was  only  a  matter  of  time  until  the  Mormons  should 
resume  their  march. 

The  end  of  Mormon  rule  at  Nauvoo  was  precipi- 


OVERLAND  WITH  THE  MORMONS  93 

tated  by  the  murder  of  Joseph  Smith,  and  Hyrum 
his  brother,  by  a  mob  at  "Carthage  jail  in  the  summer 
of  1844.  Growing  intolerance  had  provoked  an 
attack  upon  the  Saints  similar  to  that  in  Missouri. 
Under  promise  of  protection  the  Smiths  had  sur- 
rendered themselves.  Their  martyrdom  at  once 
disgraced  the  state  in  which  it  could  be  possible,  and 
gave  to  Mormonism  in  a  murdered  prophet  a  mighty 
bond  of  union.  The  reins  of  government  fell  into 
hands  not  unworthy  of  them  when  Brigham  Young 
succeeded  Joseph  Smith. 

Not  until  December,  1847,  did  Brigham  become  in  a 
formal  way  president  of  the  church,  but  his  authority 
was  complete  in  fact  after  the  death  of  Joseph. 
A  hard-headed  Missouri  River  steamboat  captain 
knew  him,  and  has  left  an  estimate  of  him  which 
must  be  close  to  truth.  He  was  "a  man  of  great 
ability.  Apparently  deficient  in  education  and 
refinement,  he  was  fair  and  honest  in  his  dealings, 
and  seemed  extremely  liberal  in  conversation  upon 
religious  subjects.  He  impressed  La  Barge,"  so 
Chittenden,  the  biographer  of  the  latter  relates, 
"as  anything  but  a  religious  fanatic  or  even  en- 
thusiast ;  but  he  knew  how  to  make  use  of  the  fanati- 
cism of  others  and  direct  it  to  great  ends."  Shortly 
after  the  murder  of  Joseph  it  became  clear  that 
Nauvoo  must  be  abandoned,  and  Brigham  began  to 
consider  an  exodus  across  the  plains  so  familiar 
by  hearsay  to  every  one  by  1845,  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains  beyond  the  limits  of  the  United  States. 


94  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Persecution,  for  the  persecuted  can  never  see  two 
sides,  had  soured  the  Mormons.  The  threatened 
eviction  came  in  the  autumn  of  1845.  In  1846  the 
last  great  trek  began. 

The  van  of  the  army  crossed  the  Mississippi  at 
Nauvoo  as  early  as  February,  1846.  By  the  hundred, 
in  the  spring  of  the  year,  the  wagons  of  the  perse- 
cuted sect  were  ferried  across  the  river.  Five 
hundred  and  thirty-nine  teams  within  a  single 
week  in  May  is  the  report  of  one  observer.  Property 
which  could  be  commuted  into  the  outfit  for  the 
march  was  carefully  preserved  and  used.  The 
rest,  the  tidy  houses,  the  simple  furniture,  the  careful 
farms  (for  the  backbone  of  the  church  was  its  well- 
to-do  middle  class),  were  abandoned  or  sold  at  forced 
sale  to  the  speculative  purchaser.  Nauvoo  was  full 
of  real  estate  vultures  hoping  to  thrive  upon  the 
Mormon  wreckage.  Sixteen  thousand  or  more 
abandoned  the  city  and  its  nearly  finished  temple 
within  the  year. 

Across  southern  Iowa  the  "Camp  of  Israel,"  as 
Brigham  Young  liked  to  call  his  headquarters, 
advanced  by  easy  stages,  as  spring  and  summer  al- 
lowed. To-day,  the  Chicago,  Burlington,  and  Quincy 
railway  follows  the  Mormon  road  for  many  miles,  but 
in  1846  the  western  half  of  Iowa  territory  was  Indian 
Country,  the  land  of  the  Chippewa,  Ottowa,  and 
Potawatomi,  who  sold  out  before  the  year  was  over, 
but  who  were  in  possession  at  this  time.  Along  the 
line  of  march  camps  were  built  by  advance  parties 


OVERLAND    WITH  THE  MORMONS  95 

to  be  used  in  succession  by  the  following  thousands. 
The  extreme  advance  hurried  on  to  the  Missouri 
River,  near  Council  Bluffs,  where  as  yet  no  city  stood, 
to  plant  a  crop  of  grain,  since  manna  could  not  be 
relied  upon  in  this  migration.  By  autumn  much  of 
the  population  of  Nauvoo  had  settled  down  in  winter 
quarters  not  far  above  the  present  site  of  Omaha, 
preserving  the  orderly  life  of  the  society,  and  en- 
during hardships  which  the  leaders  sought  to  miti- 
gate by  gaiety  and  social  gatherings.  In  the  Pota- 
watomi  country  of  Iowa,  opposite  their  winter 
quarters,  Kanesville  sprang  into  existence;  while  all 
the  way  from  Kanesville  to  Grand  Island  in  the 
Platte  Mormon  detachments  were  scattered  along  the 
roads.  The  destination  was  yet  in  doubt.  West- 
ward it  surely  was,  but  it  is  improbable  that  even 
Brigham  knew  just  where. 

The  Indians  received  the  Mormons,  persecuted 
and  driven  westward  like  themselves,  kindly  at 
first,  but  discontent  came  as  the  winter  residence 
was  prolonged.  From  the  country  of  the  Omaha, 
west  of  the  Missouri,  it  was  necessary  soon  to  pro- 
hibit Mormon  settlement,  but  east,  in  the  abandoned 
Potawatomi  lands,  they  were  allowed  to  maintain 
Kanesville  and  other  outfitting  stations  for  several 
years.  A  permanent  residence  here  was  not  desired 
even  by  the  Mormons  themselves.  Spring  in  1847 
found  them  preparing  to  resume  the  march. 

In  April,  1847,  an  advance  party  under  the  guidance 
of  no  less  a  person  than  Brigham  Young  started  out 


96  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

the  Platte  trail  in  search  of  Zion.  One  hundred  and 
forty-three  men,  seventy-two  wagons,  one  hundred 
and  seventy-five  horses,  and  six  months'  rations,  they 
took  along,  if  the  figures  of  one  of  their  historians 
may  be  accepted.  Under  strict  military  order, 
the  detachment  proceeded  to  the  mountains.  It  is 
one  of  the  ironies  of  fate  that  the  Mormons  had  no 
sooner  selected  their  abode  beyond  the  line  of  the 
United  States  in  their  flight  from  persecution  than 
conquest  from  Mexico  extended  the  United  States 
beyond  them  to  the  Pacific.  They  themselves  aided 
in  this  defeat  of  their  plan,  since  from  among  them 
Kearny  had  recruited  in  1846  a  battalion  for  his  army 
of  invasion. 

Up  the  Platte,  by  Fort  Laramie,  to  South  Pass  and 
beyond,  the  prospectors  followed  the  well-beaten 
trail.  Oregon  homeseekers  had  been  cutting  it  deep 
in  the  prairie  sod  for  five  years.  West  of  South 
Pass  they  bore  southwest  to  Fort  Bridger,  and  on 
the  24th  of  July,  1847,  Brigham  gazed  upon  the 
waters  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake.  Without  serious 
premeditation,  so  far  as  is  known,  and  against  the 
advice  of  one  of  the  most  experienced  of  mountain 
guides,  this  valley  by  a  later-day  Dead  Sea  was  chosen 
for  the  future  capital.  Fields  were  staked  out,  ground 
was  broken  by  initial  furrows,  irrigation  ditches  were 
commenced  at  once,  and  within  a  month  the  town  site 
was  baptized  the  City  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake. 

Behind  the  advance  guard  the  main  body  remained 
in  winter  quarters,  making  ready  for  their  difficult 


OVERLAND   WITH  THE  MORMONS  97 

search  for  the  promised  land;  moving  at  last  in  the 
late  spring  in  full  confidence  that  a  Zion  somewhere 
would  be  prepared  for  them.  The  successor  of  Joseph 
relied  but  little  upon  supernatural  aid  in  keeping  his 
flock  under  control.  Commonly  he  depended  upon 
human  wisdom  and  executive  direction.  But  upon 
the  eve  of  his  own  departure  from  winter  quarters 
he  had  made  public,  for  the  direction  of  the  main 
body,  a  written  revelation:  "The  Word  and  Will  of 
the  Lord  concerning  the  Camp  of  Israel  in  their 
Journeyings  to  the  West."  Such  revelations  as  this, 
had  they  been  repeated,  might  well  have  created 
or  renewed  popular  confidence  in  the  real  inspiration 
of  the  leader.  The  order  given  was  such  as  a  wise 
source  of  inspiration  might  have  formed  after  con- 
stant intercourse  with  emigrants  and  traders  upon 
the  difficulties  of  overland  migration  and  the  dan- 
gers of  the  way. 

"  Let  all  the  people  of  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of 
Latter-day  Saints,  and  those  who  journey  with  them/7 
read  the  revelation,  "be  organized  into  companies, 
with  a  covenant  and  a  promise  to  keep  all  the 
commandments  and  statutes  of  the  Lord  our  God.' 
Let  the  companies  be  organized  with  captains  pf 
hundreds,  and  captains  of  fifties,  and  captains  of  tens, 
with  a  president  and  counsellor  at  their  head,  under 
direction  of  the  Twelve  Apostles:  and  this  shall  be 
our  covenant,  that  we  will  walk  in  all  the  ordinances 
of  the  Lord. 

"Let  each  company  provide  itself  with  all  the 


98  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

teams,  wagons,  provisions,  and  all  other  necessaries 
for  the  journey  that  they  can.  When  the  companies 
are  organized,  let  them  go  with  all  their  might,  to 
prepare  for  those  who  are  to  tarry.  Let  each  com- 
pany, with  their  captains  and  presidents,  decide 
how  many  can  go  next  spring;  then  choose  out  a  suffi- 
cient number  of  able-bodied  and  expert  men  to  take 
teams,  seed,  and  farming  utensils  to  go  as  pioneers 
to  prepare  for  putting  in  the  spring  crops.  Let  each 
company  bear  an  equal  proportion,  according  to  the 
dividend  of  their  property,  in  taking  the  poor,  the 
widows,  and  the  fatherless,  and  the  families  of  those 
who  have  gone  with  the  army,  that  the  cries  of  the 
widow  and  the  fatherless  come  not  up  into  the  ears 
of  the  Lord  against  his  people. 

"Let  each  company  prepare  houses  and  fields 
for  raising  grain  for  those  who  are  to  remain  behind 
this  season;  and  this  is  the  will  of  the  Lord  concern- 
ing this  people. 

"Let  every  man  use  all  his  influence  and  property 
to  remove  this  people  to  the  place  where  the  Lord 
shall  locate  a  stake  of  Zion :  and  if  ye  do  this  with 
a  pure  heart,  with  all  faithfulness,  ye  shall  be  blessed 
in  your  flocks,  and  in  your  herds,  and  in  your  fields, 
and  in  your  houses,  and  in  your  families.  .  .  ." 

The  rendezvous  for  the  main  party  was  the  Elk 
Horn  River,  whence  the  head  of  the  procession 
moved  late  in  June  and  early  in  July.  In  careful  or- 
ganization, with  camps  under  guard  and  wagons 
always  in  corral  at  night,  detachments  moved  on  in 


OVERLAND   WITH  THE  MORMONS  99 

quick  succession.  Kanesville  and  a  large  body 
remained  behind  for  another  year  or  longer,  but 
before  Brigham  had  laid  out  his  city  and  started 
east  the  emigration  of  1847  was  well  upon  its  way. 
The  foremost  began  to  come  into  the  city  by  Septem- 
ber. By  October  the  new  city  in  the  desert  had 
nearly  four  thousand  inhabitants.  The  march  had 
been  made  with  little  suffering  and  slight  mortality. 
No  better  pioneer  leadership  had  been  seen  upon  the 
trail. 

The  valley  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  destined  to 
become  an  oasis  in  the  American  desert,  supporting 
the  only  agricultural  community  existing  therein  dur- 
ing nearly  twenty  years,  discouraged  many  of  the 
Mormons  at  the  start.  In  Illinois  and  Missouri 
they  were  used  to  wood  and  water;  here  they  found 
neither.  In  a  treeless  valley  they  were  forced  to 
carry  their  water  to  their  crops  in  a  way  in  which 
their  leader  had  more  confidence  than  themselves. 
The  urgency  of  Brigham  in  setting  his  first  detach- 
ment to  work  on  fields  and  crops  was  not  unwise, 
since  for  two  years  there  was  a  real  question  of  food 
to  keep  the  colony  alive.  Inexperience  in  irrigating 
agriculture  and  plagues  of  crickets  kept  down  the 
early  crops.  By  1850  the  colony  was  .safe,  but  its 
maintenance  does  IstuT  more  cre3f£  to  its  skilful 
leadership.  Its  people,  apart  from  foreign  converts 
who  came  in  later  years,  were  of  the  stuff  that  had 
colonized  the  middle  West  and  won  a  foothold  in 
Oregon;  but  nowhere  did  an  emigration  so  nearly 


100  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

create  a  land  which  it  enjoyed  as  here.  A  paternal 
government  dictated  every  effort,  outlined  the 
streets  and  farms,  detailed  parties  to  explore  the 
vicinity  and  start  new  centres  of  life.  Little  was 
left  to  chance  or  unguided  enthusiasm.  Practical 
success  and  a  high  state  of  general  welfare  rewarded 
the  Saints  for  their  implicit  obedience  to  authority. 
Mormon  emigration  along  the  Platte  trail  became 
as  common  as  that  to  Oregon  in  the  years  following 
1847,  but,  except  in  the  disastrous  hand-cart  episode 
of  1856,  contains  less  of  novelty  than  of  substantial 
increase  to  the  colony.  Even  to-day  men  are  living 
in  the  West,  who,  walking  all  the  way,  with  their  own 
hands  pushed  and  pulled  two-wheeled  carts  from 
the  Missouri  to  the  mountains  in  the  fifties.  To  bad 
management  in  handling  proselytes  the  hand-cart 
catastrophe  was  chiefly  due.  From  the  beginning 
missionary  activity  had  been  pressed  throughout 
the  United  States  and  even  in  Europe.  In  England 
and  Scandinavia  the  lower  classes  took  kindly  to  the 
promises,  too  often  impracticable,  it  must  be  believed, 
of  enthusiasts  whose  standing  at  home  depended  upon 
success  abroad.  The  convert  with  property  could 
pay  his  way  to  the  Missouri  border  and  join  the  ordi- 
nary annual  procession.  But  the  poor,  whose  wealth 
was  not  equal  to  the  moderately  costly  emigra- 
tion, were  a  problem  until  the  emigration  society 
determined  to  cut  expenses  by  reducing  equipment 
and  substituting  pushcarts  and  human  power  for  the 
prairie  schooner  with  its  long  train  of  oxen. 


OVERLAND    WITH  THE   MORMONS  101 

In  1856  well  over  one  thousand  poor  emigrants 
left  Liverpool,  at  contract  rates,  for  Iowa  City, 
where  the  parties  were  to  be  organized  and  ample 
equipment  in  handcarts  and  provisions  were  promised 
to  be  ready.  On  arrival  in  Iowa  City  it  was  found 
that  slovenly  management  had  not  built  enough  of 
the  carts.  Delayed  by  the  necessary  construction 
of  these  carts,  some  of  the  bands  could  not  get  on  the 
trail  until  late  in  the  summer,  —  too  late  for  a  suc- 
cessful trip,  as  a  few  of  their  more  cautious  advisers 
had  said.  The  earliest  company  got  through  to 
Salt  Lake  City  in  September  with  considerable  suc- 
cess. It  was  hard  and  toilsome  to  push  the  carts; 
women  and  children  suffered  badly,  but  the  task 
was  possible.  Snow  and  starvation  in  the  mountains 
broke  down  the  last  company.  A  friendly  historian 
speaks  of  a  loss  of  sixty-seven  out  of  a  party  of  four 
hundred  and  twenty.  Throughout  the  United  States  \ 
the  picture  of  these  poor  deluded  immigrants,  toiling  \ 
against  their  carts  through  mountain  pass  and  river- 
bottom,  with  clothing  going  and  food  quite  gone,  in- 
creased the  conviction  that  the  Mormon  hierarchy  ; 
was  misleading  and  abusing  the  confidence  of  thou- 
sands. 

That  the  hierarchy  was  endangering  the  peace  of 
the  whole  United  States  came  to  be  believed  as  well. 
In  1850,  with  the  Salt  Lake  settlement  three  years  old, 
Congress  had  organized  a  territory  of  Utah,  extending 
from  the  Rockies  to  California,  between  37°  and  42°, 
and  the  President  had  made  Brigham  Young  its 


102  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

governor.  The  close  association  of  the  Mormon 
church  and  politics  had  prevented  peaceful  relations 
from  existing  between  its  people  and  the  federal 
officers  of  the  territory,  while  Washington  prejudiced 
a  situation  already  difficult  by  sending  to  Utah 
officers  and  judges,  some  of  whom  could  not  have 
commanded  respect  even  where  the  sway  of  United 
States  authority  was  complete.  The  vicious  influ- 
ence of  politics  in  territorial  appointments,  which  the 
territories  always  resented,  was  specially  dangerous 
in  the  case  of  a  territory  already  feeling  itself  perse- 
cuted for  conscience'  sake.  Yet  it  was  not  impossi- 
ble for  a.  tactful  and  respectable  federal  officer  to  do 
business  in  Utah.  For  several  years  relations  in- 
creased in  bad  temper,  both  sides  appealing  con- 
stantly to  President  and  Congress,  until  it  appeared, 
as  was  the  fact,  that  the  United  States  authority 
had  become  as  nothing  in  Utah  and  with  the  church. 
Among  the  earliest  of  President  Buchanan's  acts 
was  the  preparation  of  an  army  which  should  rees- 
tablish United  States  prestige  among  the  Mormons. 
Large  wagon  trains  were  sent  out  from  Fort  Leaven- 
worth  in  the  summer  of  1857,  with  an  army  under 
Albert  Sidney  Johnston  following  close  behind,  and 
again  the  old  Platte  trail  came  before  the  public  eye. 
The  Utah  war  was  inglorious.  Far  from  its  base, 
and  operating  in  a  desert  against  plainsmen  of  re- 
markable skill,  the  army  was  helpless.  At  will,  the 
Mormon  cavalry  cut  out  and  burned  the  supply 
trains,  confining  their  attacks  to  property  rather 


OVERLAND   WITH  THE  MORMONS  103 

than  to  armed  forces.  When  the  army  reached 
Fort  Bridger,  it  found  Brigham  still  defiant,  his 
people  bitter  against  conquest,  and  the  fort  burned. 
With  difficulty  could  the  army  of  invasion  have 
lived  through  the  winter  without  aid.  In  the  spring 
of  1858  a  truce  was  patched  up,  and  the  Mormons, 
being  invulnerable,  were  forgiven.  The  army 
marched  down  the  trail  again. 

The  Mormon  hegira  planted  the  first  of  the  island 
settlements  in  the  heart  of  the  desert.  The  very 
isolation  of  Utah  gave  it  prominence.  What  re- 
ligious enthusiasm  lacked  in  aiding  organization, 
shrewd  leadership  and  resulting  prosperity  supplied. 
The  first  impulse  moving  population  across  the  plains 
had  been  chiefly  conquest,  with  Oregon  as  the  re- 
sult. Religion  was  the  next,  producing  Utah.  The 
lust  for  gold  followed  close  upon  the  second,  calling 
into  life  California,  and  then  in  a  later  decade  sprin- 
kling little  camps  over  all  the  mountain  West.  The 
Mormons  would  have  fared  much  worse  had  their 
leader  not  located  his  stake  of  Zion  near  the  point 
where  the  trail  to  the  Southwest  deviated  from  the 
Oregon  road,  and  where  the  forty-niners  might  pay 
tribute  to  his  commercial  skill  as  they  passed  through 
his  oasis  on  their  way  to  California. 


CHAPTER  VII 

CALIFORNIA   AND   THE    FORTY-NINERS 

ON  his  second  exploring  trip,  John  C.  Fremont 
had  worked  his  way  south  over  the  Nevada  desert 
until  at  last  he  crossed  the  mountains  and  found 
himself  in  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento.  Here  in 
1844  a  small  group  of  Americans  had  already  been 
established  for  several  years.  Mexican  California 
was  scantily  inhabited  and  was  so  far  from  the  in- 
efficient central  government  that  the  province  had 
almost  fallen  away  of  its  own  weight.  John  A. 
Sutter,  a  Swiss  of  American  proclivities,  was  the 
magnate  of  the  Sacramento  region,  whence  he  dis- 
pensed a  liberal  hospitality  to  the  Pathfinder's 
party. 

In  1845,  Fremont  started  on  his  third  trip,  this 
time  entering  California  by  a  southern  route  and 
finding  himself  at  Sutter's  early  in  1846.  In  some 
respects  his  detachment  of  engineers  had  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  filibustering  party  from  the  start. 
When  it  crossed  the  Rockies,  it  began  to  trespass 
upon  the  territory  belonging  to  Mexico,  with  whom 
the  United  States  was  yet  at  peace.  Whether  the 
explorer  was  actually  instructed  to  detach  California 

104 


CALIFORNIA  AND   THE   FORTY-NINERS         105 

from  Mexico,  or  whether  he  only  imagined  that  such 
action  would  be  approved  at  home,  is  likely  never 
to  be  explained.  Naval  officers  on  the  Pacific  were 
already  under  orders  in  the  event  of  war  to  seize 
California  at  once;  and  Polk  was  from  the  start  am- 
bitious to  round  out  the  American  territory  on  the 
Southwest.  The  Americans  in  the  Sacramento  were 
at  variance  with  their  Mexican  neighbors,  who  re- 
sented the  steady  influx  of  foreign  blood.  Between 
1842  and  1846  their  numbers  had  rapidly  increased. 
And  in  June,  1846,  certain  of  them,  professing  to 
believe  that  they  were  to  be  attacked,  seized  the 
Mexican  village  of  Sonoma  and  broke  out  the  colors 
of  what  they  called  their  Bear  Flag  Republic. 
Fremont,  near  at  hand,  countenanced  and  supported 
their  act,  if  he  did  not  suggest  it. 

The  news  of  actual  war  reached  the  Pacific  shortly 
after  the  American  population  in  California  had  be- 
gun its  Jittle  revolution.  Fremont  was  in  his  glory 
for  a  time  as  the  responsible  head  of  American 
power  in  the  province.  Naval  commanders  under 
their  own  orders  cooperated  along  the  coast  so 
effectively  that  Kearny,  with  his  army  of  the  West, 
learned  that  the  conquest  was  substantially  com- 
plete, soon  after  he  left  Santa  Fe,  and  was  able  to 
send  most  of  his  own  force  back.  California  fell 
into  American  hands  almost  without  a  struggle, 
leaving  the  invaders  in  possession  early  in  1847. 
In  January  of  that  year  the  little  village  of  Yerba 
Buena  was  rebaptized  San  Francisco,  while  the 


106  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

American  occupants  began  the  sale  of  lots  along  the 
water  front  and  the  construction  of  a  great  seaport. 
The  relations  of  Oregon  and  California  to  the 
occupation  of  the  West  were  much  the  same  in  1847. 
Both  had  been  coveted  by  the  United  States.  Both 
had  now  been  acquired  in  fact.  Oregon  had  come 
first  because  it  was  most  easily  reached  by  the  great 
trail,  and  because  it  had  no  considerable  body  of 
foreign  inhabitants  to  resist  invasion.  It  was,  under 
the  old  agreement  for  joint  occupation,  a  free  field 
for  colonization.  But  California  had  been  the 
territory  of  Mexico  and  was  occupied  by  a  strange 
population.  In  the  early  forties  there  were  from 
4000  to  6000  Mexicans  and  Spaniards  in  the  prov- 
ince, living  the  easy  agricultural  life  of  the  Spanish 
colonist.  The  missions  and  the  Indians  had  de- 
cayed during  the  past  generation.  The  population 
was  light  hearted  and  generous.  It  quarrelled 
loudly,  but  had  the  Latin-American  knack  for 
bloodless  revolutions.  It  was  partly  Americanized 
by  long  association  with  those  trappers  who  had 
visited  it  since  the  twenties,  and  the  settlers  who  had 
begun  in  the  late  thirties.  But  as  an  occupied 
foreign  territory  it  had  not  invited  American  colo- 
nization as  Oregon  had  done.  Hence  the  Oregon 
movement  had  been  going  on  three  or  four  years  be- 
fore any  considerable  bodies  of  emigrants  broke 
away  from  the  trail,  near  Salt  Lake,  and  sought  out 
homes  in  California.  If  war  had  not  come,  American 
immigration  into  California  would  have  progressed 


CALIFORNIA  AND  THE  FORTY-NINERS         107 

after  1846  quite  as  rapidly  as  the  Mexican  authori- 
ties would  have  allowed.  As  it  was,  the  actual  con- 
quest removed  the  barrier,  so  that  California  mi- 
gration in  1846  and  1847  rivalled  that  to  Oregon 
under  the  ordinary  stimulus  of  the  westward  move- 
ment. The  settlement  of  the  Mormons  at  Salt 
Lake  developed  a  much-needed  outfitting  post  at 
the  head  of  the  most  perilous  section  of  the  Cali- 
fornia trail.  Both  Mormons  and  Californians  prof- 
ited by  its  traffic. 

With  respect  to  California,  the  treaty  which  closed 
the  Mexican  War  merely  recognized  an  accomplished 
fact.  By  right  of  conquest  California  had  changed 
hands.  None  can  doubt  that  Mexico  here  paid 
the  penalty  under  that  organic  law  of  politics  which 
forbids  a  nation  to  sit  still  when  others  are  moving. 
In  no  conceivable  way  could  the  occupation  of  Cali- 
fornia have  been  prevented,  and  if  the  war  over 
Texas  had  not  come  in  1846,  a  war  over  California 
must  shortly  have  occurred.  By  the  treaty  of 
Guadalupe-Hidalgo  Mexico  relinquished  the  territory 
which  she  had  never  been  able  to  develop,  and  made 
way  for  the  erection  of  the  new  America  on  the  Pacific. 

Most  notable  among  the  ante-bellum  pioneers  in 
California  was  John  A.  Sutter,  whose  establishment 
on  the  Sacramento  had  been  a  centre  of  the  new 
life.  Upon  a  large  grant  from  the  Mexican  govern- 
ment he  had  erected  his  adobe  buildings  in  the  usual 
semi-fortified  style  that  distinguished  the  isolated 
ranch.  He  was  ready  for  trade,  or  agriculture,  or 


108  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

war  if  need  be,  possessing  within  his  own  domain 
equipment  for  the  ordinary  simple  manufactures  and 
supplies.  As  his  ranch  prospered,  and  as  Ameri- 
cans increased  in  San  Francisco  and  on  the  Sacra- 
mento, the  prospects  of  Sutter  steadily  improved. 
In  1847  he  made  ready  to  reap  an  additional  share 
of  profit  from  the  boom  by  building  a  sawmill  on  his 
estate.  Among  his  men  there  had  been  for  some 
months  a  shiftless  jack-of-all-trades,  James  W. 
Marshall,  who  had  been  chiefly  carpenter  while  in 
Sutter 's  employ.  In  the  summer  of  1847  Marshall 
was  sent  out  to  find  a  place  where  timber  and  water- 
power  should  be  near  enough  together  to  make  a 
profitable  mill  site.  He  found  his  spot  on  the  south 
bank  of  the  American,  which  is  a  tributary  of  the 
Sacramento,  some  forty-five  miles  northeast  of 
Sacramento. 

In  the  autumn  of  the  year  Sutter  and  Marshall 
came  to  their  agreement  by  which  the  former  was  to 
furnish  all  supplies  and  the  latter  was  to  build  the 
mill  and  operate  it  on  shares.  Construction  was 
begun  before  the  year  ended,  and  was  substantially 
completed  in  January,  1848.  Experience  showed 
the  amateur  constructor  that  his  mill-race  was  too 
shallow.  To  remedy  this  he  started  the  practice  of 
turning  the  river  into  it  by  night  to  wash  out  earth 
and  deepen  the  channel.  Here  it  was  that  after  one 
of  these  flushings,  toward  the  end  of  January,  he 
picked  up  glittering  flakes  which  looked  to  him  like 
gold. 


CALIFORNIA  AND  THE  FORTY-NINERS         109 

With  his  first  find,  Marshall  hurried  off  to  Sutter, 
at  the  ranch.  Together  they  tested  the  flakes  in 
the  apothecary's  shop,  proving  the  reality  of  the 
discovery  before  returning  to  the  mill  to  prospect 
more  fully. 

For  Sutter  the  discovery  was  a  calamity.  None 
could  tell  how  large  the  field  might  be,  but  he  saw 
clearly  that  once  the  news  of  the  find  got  abroad,  the 
whole  population  would  rush  madly  to  the  diggings. 
His  ranch,  the  mill,  and  a  new  mill  which  was  under 
way,  all  needed  labor.  But  none  would  work  for 
hire  with  free  gold  to  be  had  for  the  taking.  The 
discoverers  agreed  to  keep  their  secret  for  six  weeks, 
but  the  news  leaked  out,  carried  off  all  Sutter's  hands 
in  a  few  days,  and  reached  even  to  San  Francisco  in 
the  form  of  rumor  before  February  was  over.  A 
new  force  had  appeared  to  change  the  balance  of 
the  West  and  to  excite  the  whole  United  States. 

The  rush  to  the  gold  fields  falls  naturally  into  two 
parts:  the  earlier  including  the  population  of  Cali- 
fornia, near  enough  to  hear  of  the  find  and  get  to 
the  diggings  in  1848.  The  later  came  from  all  the 
world,  but  could  not  start  until  the  news  had  per- 
colated by  devious  and  tedious  courses  to  centres 
of  population  thousands  of  miles  away.  The  move- 
ment within  California  started  in  March  and  April. 

Further  prospecting  showed  that  over  large  areas 
around  the  American  and  Sacramento  rivers  free 
gold  could  be  obtained  by  the  simple  processes  of 
placer  mining.  A  wooden  cradle  operated  by  six 


110  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

or  eight  men  was  the  most  profitable  tool,  but  a 
tin  dishpan  would  do  in  an  emergency.  San  Fran- 
cisco was  sceptical  when  the  rumor  reached  it,  and 
was  not  excited  even  by  the  first  of  April,  but  as 
nuggets  and  bags  of  dust  appeared  in  quantity,  the 
doubters  turned  to  enthusiasts.  Farms  were  aban- 
doned, town  houses  were  deserted,  stores  were  closed, 
while  every  able-bodied  man  tramped  off  to  the 
north  to  try  his  luck.  The  city  which  had  flourished 
and  expanded  since  the  beginning  of  1847  became 
an  empty  shell  before  May  was  over.  Its  news- 
paper is  mute  witness  of  the  desertion,  lapsing  into 
silence  for  a  month  after  May  29th  because  its  hands 
had  disappeared.  Farther  south  in  California  the 
news  spread  as  spring  advanced,  turning  by  June 
nearly  every  face  toward  Sacramento. 

The  public  authorities  took  cognizance  of  the  find 
during  the  summer.  It  was  forced  upon  them  by 
the  wholesale  desertions  of  troops  who  could  not 
stand  the  strain.  Both  Consul  Larkin  and  Gov- 
ernor Mason,  who  represented  the  sovereignty  of 
the  United  States,  visited  the  scenes  in  person  and 
described  the  situation  in  their  official  letters  home. 
The  former  got  his  news  off  to  the  Secretary  of  State 
by  the  1st  of  June;  the  latter  wrote  on  August  17; 
together  they  became  the  authoritative  messengers 
that  confirmed  the  rumors  to  the  world,  when  Polk 
published  some  of  their  documents  in  his  message  to 
Congress  in  December,  1848.  The  rumors  had 
reached  the  East  as  early  as  September,  but  now, 


CALIFORNIA  AND   THE  FORTY-NINERS         111 

writes  Bancroft,  "  delirium  seized  upon  the  com- 
munity." 

How  to  get  to  California  became  a  great  popular 
question  in  the  winter  of  1848-1849.  The  public 
mind  was  well  prepared  for  long  migrations  through 
the  news  of  Pacific  pioneers  which  had  filled  the 
journals  for  at  least  six  years.  Route,  time,  method, 
and  cost  were  all  to  be  considered.  Migration,  of 
a  sort,  began  at  once. 

Land  and  water  offered  a  choice  of  ways  to  Cali- 
fornia. The  former  route  was  now  closed  for  the 
winter  and  could  not  be  used  until  spring  should 
produce  her  crop  of  necessary  pasturage.  But  the 
impetuous  and  the  well-to-do  could  start  immedi- 
ately by  sea.  All  along  the  seaboard  enterprising 
ship-owners  announced  sailings  for  California,  by 
the  Horn  or  by  the  shorter  Isthmian  route.  Re- 
tired hulks  were  called  again  into  commission  for 
the  purpose.  Fares  were  extortionate,  but  many 
were  willing  to  pay  for  speed.  Before  the  discovery, 
Congress  had  arranged  for  a  postal  service,  via 
Panama,  and  the  Pacific  Mail  Steamship  Company 
had  been  organized  to  work  the  contracts.  The 
California  had  left  New  York  in  the  fall  of  1848 
to  run  on  the  western  end  of  the  route.  It  had 
sailed  without  passengers,  but,  meeting  the  news 
of  gold  on  the  South  American  coast,  had  begun  to 
load  up  at  Latin  ports.  When  it  reached  Panama, 
a  crowd  of  clamorous  emigrants,  many  times  be- 
yond its  capacity,  awaited  its  coming  and  quarrelled 


112  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

over  its  accommodations.  On  February  28,  1849, 
it  reached  San  Francisco  at  last,  starting  the  influx 
from  the  world  at  large. 

The  water  route  was  too  costly  for  most  of  the 
gold-seekers,  who  were  forced  to  wait  for  spring, 
when  the  trails  would  be  open.  Various  routes  then 
guided  them,  through  Mexico  and  Texas,  but  most 
of  all  they  crowded  once  more  the  great  Platte  trail. 
Oregon  migration  and  the  Mormon  flight  had 
familiarized  this  route  to  all  the  world.  For  its  first 
stages  it  was  "  already  broad  and  well  beaten  as  any 
turnpike  in  our  country. " 

The  usual  crowd,  which  every  May  for  several 
years  had  brought  to  the  Missouri  River  crossings 
around  Fort  Leavenworth,  was  reenforced  in  1849 
and  swollen  almost  beyond  recognition.  A  rifle 
regiment  of  regulars  was  there,  bound  for  Forts 
Laramie  and  Hall  to  erect  new  frontier  posts.  Lieu- 
tenant Stansbury  was  there,  gathering  his  surveying 
party  which  was  to  prospect  for  a  railway  route  to 
Salt  Lake.  By  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands 
others  came,  tempted  by  the  call  of  gold.  This 
was  the  cheap  and  popular  route.  Every  western 
farmer  was  ready  to  start,  with  his  own  wagons  and 
his  own  stock.  The  townsman  could  easily  buy  the 
simple  equipment  of  the  plains.  The  poor  could 
work  their  way,  driving  cattle  for  the  better-off. 
Through  inexperience  and  congestion  the  journey 
was  likely  to  be  hard,  but  any  one  might  undertake 
it.  Niles  reported  in  June  that  up  to  May  18,  2850 


CALIFORNIA  AND  THE  FORTY-NINERS         113 

wagons  had  crossed  the  river  at  St.  Joseph,  and 
1500  more  at  the  other  ferries. 

Familiarity  had  done  much  to  divest  the  overland 
journey  of  its  terrors.  We  hear  in  this,  and  even  in 
earlier  years,  of  a  sort  of  plains  travel  de  luxe,  of 
wagons  "  fitted  up  so  as  to  be  secure  from  the  weather 
and  .  .  .  the  women  knitting  and  sewing,  for  all  the 
world  as  if  in  their  ordinary  farm-houses."  Stans- 
bury,  hurrying  out  in  June  and  overtaking  the  trains, 
was  impressed  with  the  picturesque  character  of  the 
emigrants  and  their  equipment.  "We  have  been  in 
company  with  multitudes  of  emigrants  the  whole 
day, ' '  he  wrote  on  June  12.  "  The  road  has  been  lined 
to  a  long  extent  with  their  wagons,  whose  white 
covers,  glittering  in  the  sunlight,  resembled,  at  a 
distance,  ships  upon  the  ocean.  .  .  .  We  passed 
also  an  old  Dutchman,  with  an  immense  wagon, 
drawn  by  six  yoke  of  cattle,  and  loaded  with  house- 
hold furniture.  Behind  followed  a  covered  cart 
containing  the  wife,  driving  herself,  and  a  host  of 
babies  —  the  whole  bound  to  the  land  of  promise, 
of  the  distance  to  which,  however,  they  seemed  to 
have  not  the  most  remote  idea.  To  the  tail  of  the 
cart  was  attached  a  large  chicken-coop,  full  of  fowls; 
two  milch-cows  followed,  and  next  came  an  old  mare, 
upon  the  back  of  which  was  perched  a  little,  brown- 
faced,  barefooted  girl,  not  more  than  seven  years  old, 
while  a  small  sucking  colt  brought  up  the  rear." 
Travellers  eastward  bound,  meeting  the  procession, 
reported  the  hundreds  and  thousands  whom  they  met. 


114  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

The  organization  of  the  trains  was  not  unlike  that 
of  the  Oregonians  and  the  Mormons,  though  gener- 
ally less  formal  than  either  of  these.  The  wagons 
were  commonly  grouped  in  companies  for  protection, 
little  needed,  since  the  Indians  were  at  peace  during 
most  of  1849.  At  nightfall  the  long  columns  came 
to  rest  and  worked  their  wagons  into  the  corral  which 
was  the  typical  plains  encampment.  To  form  this 
the  wagons  were  ranged  in  a  large  circle,  each  with 
its  tongue  overlapping  the  vehicle  ahead,  and  each 
fastened  to  the  next  with  the  brake  or  yoke  chains. 
An  opening  at  one  end  allowed  for  driving  in  the 
stock,  which  could  here  be  protected  from  stampede 
or  Indian  theft.  In  emergency  the  circle  of  wagons 
formed  a  fortress  strong  enough  to  turn  aside  ordi- 
nary Indian  attacks.  When  the  companies  had  been 
on  the  road  for  a  few  weeks  the  forming  of  the  corral 
became  an  easy  military  manoeuvre.  The  itinerant 
circus  is  to-day  the  thing  most  like  the  fleet  of 
prairie  schooners. 

The  emigration  of  the  forty-niners  was  attended  by 
worse  sufferings  than  the  trail  had  yet  known.  Chol- 
era broke  out  among  the  trains  at  the  start.  It 
stayed  by  them,  lining  the  road  with  nearly  five 
thousand  graves,  until  they  reached  the  hills  beyond 
Fort  Laramie.  The  price  of  inexperience,  too,  had 
to  be  paid.  Wagons  broke  down  and  stock  died. 
The  wreckage  along  the  trail  bore  witness  to  this. 
On  July  27,  Stansbury  observed:  " To-day  we  find 
additional  and  melancholy  evidence  of  the  difficulties 


CALIFORNIA   AND   THE  FORTY-NINERS         115 

encountered  by  those  who  are  ahead  of  us.  Before 
halting  at  noon,  we  passed  eleven  wagons  that  had 
been  broken  up,  the  spokes  of  the  wheels  taken  to 
make  pack-saddles,  and  the  rest  burned  or  otherwise 
destroyed.  The  road  has  been  literally  strewn  with 
articles  that  have  been  thrown  away.  Bar-iron  and 
steel,  large  blacksmiths'  anvils  and  bellows,  crow- 
bars, drills,  augers,  gold-washers,  chisels,  axes,  lead, 
trunks,  spades,  ploughs,  large  grindstones,  baking- 
ovens,  cooking-stoves  without  number,  kegs,  barrels, 
harness,  clothing,  bacon,  and  beans,  were  found  along 
the  road  in  pretty  much  the  order  in  which  they  have 
been  here  enumerated.  The  carcasses  of  eight  oxen, 
lying  in  one  heap  by  the  roadside,  this  morning,  ex- 
plained a  part  of  the  trouble."  In  twenty-four  miles 
he  passed  seventeen  abandoned  wagons  and  twenty- 
seven  dead  oxen. 

Beyond  Fort  Hall,  with  the  journey  half  done, 
came  the  worst  perils.  In  the  dust  and  heat  of  the 
Humboldt  Valley,  stock  literally  faded  away,  so  that 
thousands  had  to  turn  back  to  refuge  at  Salt  Lake, 
or  were  forced  on  foot  to  struggle  with  thirst  and 
starvation. 

The  number  of  the  overland  emigrants  can  never 
be  told  with  accuracy.  Perhaps  the  truest  estimate 
is  that  of  the  great  California  historian  who  counts 
it  that,  in  1849,  42,000  crossed  the  continent  and 
reached  the  gold  fields. 

It  was  a  mixed  multitude  that  found  itself  in  Cali- 
fornia after  July,  1849,  when  the  overland  folk  began 


116  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

to  arrive.  All  countries  and  all  stations  in  society 
had  contributed  to  fill  the  ranks  of  the  100,000  or 
more  whites  who  were  there  in  the  end  of  the  year. 
The  farmer,  the  amateur  prospector,  and  the  pro- 
fessional gambler  mingled  in  the  crowd.  Loose 
women  plied  their  trade  without  rebuke.  Those  who 
had  come  by  sea  contained  an  over-share  of  the  un- 
desirable element  that  proposed  to  live  upon  the  reck- 
lessness and  vices  of  the  miners.  The  overland  emi- 
grants were  largely  of  farmer  stock;  whether  they 
had  possessed  frontier  experience  or  not  before  the 
start,  the  3000-mile  journey  toughened  and  seasoned 
all  who  reached  California.  Nearly  all  possessed 
the  essential  virtues  of  strength,  boldness,  and  in- 
itiative. 

The  experience  of  Oregon  might  point  to  the  fu- 
ture of  California  when  its  strenuous  population 
arrived  upon  the  unprepared  community.  The 
Mexican  government  had  been  ejected  by  war.  A 
military  government  erected  by  the  United  States 
still  held  its  temporary  sway,  but  felt  out  of  place  as 
the  controlling  power  over  a  civilian  American  popu- 
lation. The  new  inhabitants  were  much  in  need  of 
law,  and  had  the  American  dislike  for  military  au- 
thority. Immediately  Congress  was  petitioned  to 
form  a  territorial  government  for  the  new  El  Dorado. 
But  Congress  was  preoccupied  with  the  relations  of 
slavery  and  freedom  in  the  Southwest  during  its 
session  of  1848-1849.  It  adjourned  with  nothing 
done  for  California.  The  mining  population  was  irri- 


CALIFORNIA  AND   THE  FORTY-NINERS         117 

tated  but  not  deeply  troubled  by  this  neglect.  It 
had  already  organized  its  miners'  courts  and  begun 
to  execute  summary  justice  in  emergencies.  It  was 
quite  able  and  willing  to  act  upon  the  suggestion  of 
its  administrative  officers  and  erect  its  state  govern- 
ment without  the  consent  of  Congress.  The  mili- 
tary governor  called  the  popular  convention;  the 
constitution  framed  during  September,  1849, was  rati- 
fied by  popular  vote  on  November  13;  a  few  days 
later  Governor  Riley  surrendered  his  authority  into 
the  hands  of  the  elected  governor,  Burnett,  and  the 
officials  of  the  new  state.  All  this  was  done  spon- 
taneously and  easily.  There  was  no  sanction  in  law 
for  California  until  Congress  admitted  it  in  Septem- 
ber, 1850,  receiving  as  one  of  its  first  senators,  John 
C.  Fremont. 

The  year  1850  saw  the  great  compromise  upon 
slavery  in  the  Southwest,  a  compromise  made  neces- 
sary by  the  appearance  on  the  Pacific  of  a  new  Amer- 
ica. The  "call  of  the  West  and  the  lust  for  gold" 
had  done  their  work  in  creating  a  new  centre  of  life 
beyond  the  quondam  desert. 

The  census  of  1850  revealed  something  of  the 
nature  of  this  population.  Probably  125,000  whites, 
though  it  was  difficult  to  count  them  and  impossible 
to  secure  absolute  accuracy,  were  found  in  Oregon 
and  California.  Nine-tenths  of  these  were  in  the 
latter  colony.  More  than  11,000  were  found  in  the 
settlements  around  Great  Salt  Lake.  Not  many 
more  than  3000  Americans  were  scattered  among 


118  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

the  Mexican  population  along  the  Rio  Grande. 
The  great  trails  had  seen  most  of  these  home-seekers 
marching  westward  over  the  desert  and  across  the 
Indian  frontier  which  in  the  blindness  of  statecraft 
had  been  completed  for  all  time  in  1840. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

KANSAS  AND  THE   INDIAN   FRONTIER 

THE  long  line  separating  the  Indian  and  agri- 
cultural frontiers  was  in  1850  but  little  farther  west 
than  the  point  which  it  had  reached  by  1820.  Then 
it  had  arrived  at  the  bend  of  the  Missouri,  where  it 
remained  for  thirty  years.  Its  flanks  had  swung 
out  during  this  generation,  including;  Arkansas  on  the 
south  and  Iowa,  Minnesota,  and  Wisconsin  on  j;he 
north,  so  that  now  at  theclose  of  the  MexicanJWar 
the  lineTwas  nearly  a  truelneridian  crossing  the  Mis- 
souri at  its  bend.  West  of  this  spot  it  had  been  kept 
from  going  by  the  tradition  of  the  desert  and  the 
pressure  of  the  Indian  tribes.  The  country  behind 
had  filled  up  with  population,  Oregon  and  California 
had  appeared  across  the  desert,  but  the  barrier  had 
not  been  pushed  away. 

Through  the  great  trails  which  penetrated  the 
desert  accurate  knowledge  of  the  Far  West  had  begun 
to  come.  By  1850  the  tradition  which  Pike  and  Long 
had  helped  to  found  had  well-nigh  disappeared,  and 
covetous  eyes  had  been  cast  upon  the  Indian 
lands  across  the  border,  —  lands  from  which  the 
tribes  were  never  to  be  removed  without  their  con- 

119 


120 


THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 


sent,  and  which  were  never  to  be  included  in  any 
organized  territory  or  state.  Most  of  the  traffic 
over  the  trails  and  through  this  country  had  been  in 
defiance  of  treaty  obligations.  Some  of  the  tribes 
had  granted  rights  of  transit,  but  such  privileges  as 
were  needed  and  used  by  the  Oregon,  and  California, 
and  Utah  hordes  were  far  in  excess  of  these.  Most 
ofjbhe  emigrants  were  technically  trespassers  upon 
IndianTands  asjwell  as  violators  of  treaty  provisions. 
TroubleTwith  theTndians  had  begun  early  in  the  mi- 
grations. 

~~  At~tEe  very  beginning  of  the  Oregon  movement  the 
Indian  office  had  foreseen  trouble:  "Frequent  diffi- 


0  «  E  G  o  N       )     '  * 


O  R 


MNJZBO 

ERR. 


THE  WEST  IN  1849 

Texas  still  claimed  the  Rio  Grande  as  her  western  boundary.    The  Southwest 
acquired  in  1848  was  yet  unorganized. 


KANSAS  AND   THE   INDIAN  FRONTIER          121 

culties  have  occurred  during  the  spring  of  the  last 
and  present  year  [1845]  from  the  passing  of  emigrants 
for  Oregon  at  various  points  into  the  Indian  Country. 
Large  companies  have  frequently  rendezvoused  on 
the  Indian  lands  for  months  previous  to  the  period 
of  their  starting.  The  emigrants  have  two  advan- 
tages in  crossing  into  the  Indian  Country  at  an  early 
period  of  the  spring;  one,  the  facility  of  grazing  their 
stock  on  the  rushes  with  which  the  lands  abound; 
and  the  other,  that  they  cross  the  Missouri  River  at 
their  leisure.  In  one  instance  a  large  party  had  to  be 
forced  by  the  military  to  put  back.  This  passing 
of  the  emigrants  through  the  Indian  Country  without 
their  permission  must,  I  fear,  result  in  an  unpleasant 
collision,  if  not  bloodshed.  The  Indians  say  that  the 
whites  have  no  right  to  be  in  their  country  without 
their  consent;  and  the  upper  tribes,  who  subsist  on 
game,  complain  that  the  buffalo  are  wantonly  killed 
and  scared  off,  which  renders  their  only  means  of 
subsistence  every  year  more  precarious. "  Fremont 
had  seen,  in  1842,  that  this  invasion  of  the  Indian 
Country  could  not  be  kept  up  safely  without  a  show 
of  military  force,  and  had  recommended  a  post  at  the 
point  where  Fort  Laramie  was  finally  placed. 

The  years  of  the  great  migrations  steadily  aggra- 
vated the  relations  with  the  tribes,  while  the  Indian 
agents  continually  called  upon  Congress  to  redress 
or  stop  the  wrongs  being  done  as  often  by  panic- 
stricken  emigrants  as  by  vicious  ones.  ' '  By  alternate 
persuasion  and  force, "  wrote  the  Commissioner  in 


122  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

1854,  "some  of  these  tribes  have  been  removed,  step 
by  step,  from  mountain  to  valley,  and  from  river  to 
plain,  until  they  have  been  pushed  halfway  across 
the  continent.  They  can  go  no  further;  on  the 
ground  they  now  occupy  the  crisis  must  be  met,  and 
their  future  determined.  .  .  .  [There]  they  are,  and 
as  they  are,  with  outstanding  obligations  in  their 
behalf  of  the  most  solemn  and  imperative  character, 
voluntarily  assumed  by  the  government/'  But  a 
relentless  westward  movement  that  had  no  regard 
for  rights  of  Mexico  in  either  Texas  or  California 
could  not  be  expected  to  notice  the  rights  of  savages 
even  less  powerful.  It  demanded  for  its  own  citizens 
rights  not  inferior  to  those  conceded  by  the  govern- 
ment "to  wandering  nations  of  savages/7  A  shrewd 
and  experienced  Indian  agent,  Fitzpatrick,  who  had 
the  confidence  of  both  races,  voiced  this  demand  in 
1853.  "But  one  course  remains/'  he  wrote,  "which 
promises  any  permanent  relief  to  them,  or  any  last- 
ing benefit  to  the  country  in  which  they  dwell.  That 
is  simply  to  make  such  modifications  in  the  '  inter- 
course laws'  as  will  invite  the  residence  of  traders 
amongst  them,  and  open  the  whole  Indian  territory 
to  settlement.  In  this  manner  will  be  introduced 
amongst  them  those  who  will  set  the  example  of 
developing  the  resources  of  the  soil,  of  which  the 
Indians  have  not  now  the  most  distant  idea;  who 
will  afford  to  them  employment  in  pursuits  congenial 
to  their  nature;  and  who  will  accustom  them,  im- 
perceptibly, to  those  modes  of  life  which  can  alone 


KANSAS  AND   THE  INDIAN  FRONTIER  123 

secure  them  from  the  miseries  of  penury.  Trade  is 
the  only  civilizer  of  the  Indian.  It  has  been  the  pre- 
cursor of  all  civilization  heretofore,  and  it  will  be  of 
all  hereafter.  .  .  .  The  present  'intercourse  laws' 
too,  so  far  as  they  are  calculated  to  protect  the 
Indians  from  the  evils  of  civilized  life  —  from  the 
sale  of  ardent  spirits  and  the  prostitution  of  morals  - 
are  nothing  more  than  a  dead  letter;  while,  so  far 
as  they  contribute  to  exclude  the  benefits  of  civiliza- 
tion from  amongst  them,  they  can  be,  and  are,  strictly 
enforced." 

In  1849  the  Indian  Office  was  transferred  by  Con- 
gress from  the  War  Department  to  the  Interior,  with 
the  idea  that  the  Indians  would  be  better  off  under 
civilian  than  military  control,  and  shortly  after  this 
negotiations  were  begun  looking  towards  new  settle- 
ments with  the  tribes.  The  Sioux  were  persuaded 
in  the  summer  of  1851  to  make  way  for  increasing 
population  in  Minnesota,  while  in  the  autumn  of  the 
same  year  the  tribes  of  the  western  plains  were  in- 
duced to  make  concessions. 

The  great  treaties  signed  at  the  Upper  Platte 
agency  at  Fort  Laramie  in  1851  were  in  the  interest 
of  the  migrating  thousands.  Fitzpatrick  had  spent 
the  summer  of  1850  in  summoning  the  bands  of  Chey- 
enne and  Arapaho  to  the  conference.  Shoshoni 
were  brought  in  from  the  West.  From  the  north  of 
the  Platte  came  Sioux  and  Assiniboin,  Arickara, 
Grosventres,  and  Crows.  The  treaties  here  con- 
cluded were  never  ratified  in  full,  but  for  fifteen  years 


124  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Congress  paid  various  annuities  provided  by  them, 
and  in  general  the  tribes  adhered  to  them.  The  right 
of  the  United  States  to  make  roads  across  the  plains 
and  to  fortify  them  with  military  posts  was  fully 
agreed  to,  while  the  Indians  pledged  themselves  to 
commit  no  depredations  upon  emigrants.  Two 
years  later,  at  Fort  Atkinson,  Fitzpatrick  had  a 
conference  with  the  plains  Indians  of  the  south, 
Comanche  and  Apache,  making  "a  renewal  of 
faith,  which  the  Indians  did  not  have  in  the  Govern- 
ment, nor  the  Government  in  them." 
,  Overland  traffic  was  made  more  safe  for  several 
years  by  these  treaties.  Such  friction  and  fighting 
as  occurred  in  the  fifties  were  due  chiefly  to  the  ex- 
cesses and  the  fears  of  the  emigrants  themselves. 
But  in  these  treaties  there  was  nothing  for  the  eastern 
tribes  along  the  Iowa  and  Missouri  border,  who  were 
in  constant  danger  of  dispossession  by  the  advance  of 
the  frontier  itself. 

The  settlement  of  Kansas,  becoming  probable  in 
the  early  fifties,  was  the  impending  danger  threaten- 
ing the  peace  of  the  border.  There  was  not  as  yet 
any  special  need  to  extend  colonization  across  the 
Missouri,  since  Arkansas,  Missouri,  Iowa,  and  Min- 
nesota were  but  sparsely  inhabited.  Settlers  for 
years  might  be  accommodated  farther  to  the  east. 
But  the  slavery  debate  of  1850  had  revealed  and 
aroused  passions  in  both  North  and  South.  Mo- 
tives were  so  thoroughly  mixed  that  participants 
were  rarely  able  to  give  satisfactory  accounts  of 


KANSAS  AND  THE  INDIAN  FRONTIER          125 

themselves.  Love  of  struggle,  desire  for  revenge, 
political  ambition,  all  mingled  with  pure  philanthropy 
and  a  reasonable  fear  of  outside  interference  with 
domestic  institutions.  The  compromise  had  settled 
the  future  of  the  new  lands,  but  between  Missouri 
and  the  mountains  lay  the  residue  of  the  Louisiana 
purchase,  divided  truly  by  the  Missouri  compromise 
line  of  36°  30',  but  not  yet  settled.  Ambition  to 
possess  it,  to  convert  it  to  slavery,  or  to  retain  it  for 
freedom  was  stimulated  by  the  debate  and  the  fears 
of  outside  interference.  The  nearest  part  of  the 
unorganized  West  was  adjacent  to  Missouri.  Hence 
it  was  that  Kansas  came  within  the  public  vision  first. 
It  is  possible  to  trace  a  movement  for  territorial 
organization  in  the  Indian  Country  back  to  1850  or 
even  earlier.  Certain  of  the  more  intelligent  of  the 
Indian  colonists  had  been  able  to  read  the  signs  of 
the  times,  with  the  result  that  organized  effort  for  a 
territory  of  Nebraska  had  emanated  from  the  Wyan- 
dot  country  and  had  besieged  Congress  between 
1851  and  1853.  The  obstacles  in  the  road  of  fulfil- 
ment were  the  Indians  and  the  laws.  Experience 
had  long  demonstrated  the  unwisdom  of  permitting 
Indians  and  emigrants  to  live  in  the  same  districts. 
The  removal  and  intercourse  acts,  and  the  treaties 
based  upon  them,  had  guaranteed  in  particular  that 
no  territory  or  stateshould  ever  be  orgamzedTn  this 
country:  Hood  "faitn"  and  the  physical  presence  of 
the  tribes  had  to  be  overcome  before  a  new  territory 
could  api 


126  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

The  guarantee  of  permanency  was  based  upon 
treaty,  and  in  the  eye  of  Congress  was  not  so  sacred 
that  it  could  not  be  modified  by  treaty.  As  it  be- 
came clear  that  the  demand  for  the  opening  of  these 
lands  would  soon  have  to  be  granted,  Congress  pre- 
pared for  the  inevitable  by  ordering,  in  March,  1853, 
a  series  of  negotiations  with  the  tribes  west  of  Mis- 
souri with  a  view  to  the  cession  of  more  country. 
The  Commissioner  of  Indian  Affairs,  George  W. 
Manypenny,  who  later  wrote  a  book  on  "Our  Ind- 
ian Wards,"  spent  the  next  summer  in  breaking  to 
the  Indians  the  hard  news  that  they  were  expected 
once  more  to  vacate.  He  found  the  tribes  uneasy 
and  sullen.  Occasional  prospectors,  wandering  over 
their  lands,  had  set  them  thinking.  There  had  been 
no  actual  white  settlement  up  to  October,  1853,  so 
Manypenny  declared,  but  the  chiefs  feared  that  he 
was  contemplating  a  seizure  of  their  lands.  The 
Indian  mind  had  some  difficulty  in  comprehending 
the  difference  between  ceding  their  land  by  treaty 
and  losing  it  by  force. 

At  a  long  series  of  council  fires  the  Commissioner 
soothed  away  some  of  the  apprehensions,  but  found 
a  stubborn  resistance  when  he  came  to  talk  of  ceding 
all  the  reserves  and  moving  to  new  homes.  The 
tribes,  under  pressure,  were  ready  to  part  with  some 
of  their  lands,  but  wanted  to  retain  enough  to  live 
on.  When  he  talked  to  them  of  the  Great  Father 
in  Washington,  Manypenny  himself  felt  the  irony 
of  the  situation;  the  guarantee  of  permanency  had 


KANSAS  AND   THE   INDIAN  FRONTIER          127 

been  simple  and  explicit.  Yet  he  arranged  for  a 
series  of  treaties  in  the  following  year. 

In  the  springjifj.854  treaties  were  concluded  with 
most  of  the  tribes  fronting  on  Missouri  between  37° 
and  42°  40_'.  Some  of  these  had  been  persuaded  to 
move  into  the  Missouri  Valley  in  the  negotiations  of 
the  thirties.  Others,  always  resident  there,  had 
accepted  curtailed  reserves.  The  Omaha  faced  the 
Missouri,  north  of  the  Platte.  South  of  the  Platte 
were  the  Oto  and  Missouri,  the  Sauk  and  Foxes 
of  Missouri,  the  Iowa,  and  the  Kickapoo.  The 
Delaware  reserve,  north  of  the  Kansas,  and  around 
Fort  Leavenworth,  was  the  seat  of  Indian  civiliza- 
tion of  a  high  order.  The  Shawnee,  immediately 
south  of  the  Kansas,  were  also  well  advanced  in  agri- 
culture in  the  permanent  home  they  had  accepted. 
The  confederated  Kaskaskia  and  Peoria,  and  Wea 
and  Piankashaw,  and  the  Miami  were  further  south. 
From  those  tribes  more  than  thirteen  million  acres  of 
land  were  bought  in  the  treaties  of  1854.  In  scat- 
tered and  reduced  reserves  the  Indians  retained  for 
themselves  about  one-tenth  of  what  they  ceded. 
Generally,  when  the  final  signing  came,  under  the 
persuasion  of  the  Indian  Office,  and  often  amid  the 
strange  surroundings  of  Washington,  the  chiefs 
surrendered  the  lands  outright  and  with  no  condi- 
tion. 

Certain  of  the  tribes  resisted  all  importunities  to 
give  title  at  once  and  held  out  for  conditions  of  sale. 
The  Iowa,  the  confederated  minor  tribes,  and 


128  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

notably  the  Delawares,  ceded  their  lands  in  trust 
to  the  United  States,  with  the  treaty  pledge  that  the 
lands  so  yielded  should  be  sold  at  public  auction  to 
the  highest  bidder,  the  remainders  should  then  be 
offered  privately  for  three  years  at  $1.25  per  acre, 
and  the  final  remnants  should  be  disposed  of  by  the 
United  States,  the  accruing  funds  being  held  in  trust 
by  the  United  States  for  the  Indians.  By  the  end 
of  May  the  treaties  were  nearly  all  concluded.  In 
July,  1854,  Congress  provided  a  land  office  for  the 
territory  of  Kansas. 

While  the  Indian  negotiations  were  in  progress, 
Senator  Douglas  was  forcing  his  Kansas-Nebraska 
bill  at  Washington.  The  bill  had  failed  in  1853, 
partly  because  the  Senate  had  felt  the  sanctity  of 
the  Indian  agreement;  but  in  1854  the  leader  of  the 
Democratic  party  carried  it  along  relentlessly.  With 
words  of  highest  patriotism  upon  his  lips,  as  Rhodes 
has  told  it,  he  secured  the  passage  of  a  bill  not  needed 
by  the  westward  movement,  subversive  of  the  na- 
tional pledge,  and,  blind  as  he  was,  destructive  as 
well  of  his  party  and  his  own  political  future.  The 
support  of  President  Pierce  and  the  cooperation  of 
Jefferson  Davis  were  his  in  the  struggle.  It  was  not 
his  intent,  he  declared,  to  legislate  slavery  into  or 
out  of  the  territories;  he  proposed  to  leave  that  to 
the  people  themselves.  To  this  principle  he  gave  the 
name  of  " popular  sovereignty,"  "and  the  name  was 
a  far  greater  invention  than  the  doctrine."  With 
rising  opposition  all  about  him,  he  repealed  the  Mis- 


KANSAS  AND  THE   INDIAN  FRONTIER          129 

souri  compromise  which  in  1820  had  divided  the 
Indian  Country  by  the  line  of  36°  30'  into  free  and 
slave  areas,  and  created  within  these  limits  the  new 
territories  of  Kansas  and  Nebraska.  His  bill  was 
signed  by  the  President  on  May  30,  1854.  In  later 
years  this  day  has  been  observed  as  a  memorial  to 
those  who  lost  their  lives  in  fighting  the  battle  which 
he  provoked. 

With  public  sentiment  excited,  and  the  Missouri 
compromise  repealed,  eager  partisans  prepared  in 
the  spring  of  1854  to  colonize  the  new  territories 
in  the  interests  of  slavery  and  freedom.  On  the 
slavery  side,  Senator  Atchison,  of  Missouri,  was 
to  be  reckoned  as  one  of  the  leaders.  Young  men 
of  the  South  were  urged  to  move,  with  their  slaves 
and  their  possessions,  into  the  new  territories, 
and  thus  secure  these  for  their  cherished  institu- 
tion. If  votes  should  fail  them  in  the  future,  the 
Missouri  border  was  not  far  removed,  and  coloni- 
zation of  voters  might  be  counted  upon.  Missouri, 
directly  adjacent  to  Kansas,  and  a  slave  state, 
naturally  took  the  lead  in  this  matter  of  preventing 
the  erection  of  a  free  state  on  her  western  boundary. 
The  northern  states  had  been  stirred  by  the  act  as 
deeply  as  the  South.  In  New  England  the  bill  was 
not  yet  passed  when  leaders  of  the  abolition  move- 
ment prepared  to  act  under  it.  One  Eli  Thayer, 
of  Worcester,  urged  during  the  spring  that  friends  of 
freedom  could  do  no  better  work  than  aid  in  the 
colonization  of  Kansas.  He  secured  from  his  own 


130  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

state,  in  April,  a  charter  for  a  Massachusetts  Emi- 
grant Aid  Society,  through  which  he  proposed  to  aid 
suitable  men  to  move  into  the  debatable  land. 
Churches  and  schools  were  to  be  provided  for  them. 
A  stern  New  England  abolition  spirit  was  to  be  fos- 
tered by  them.  And  they  were  not  to  be  left  without 
the  usual  border  means  of  defence.  Amos  A.  Law- 
rence, of  Boston,  a  wealthy  philanthropist,  made 
Thayer's  scheme  financially  possible.  Dr.  Charles 
Robinson  was  their  choice  for  leader  of  emigration 
and  local  representative  in  Kansas. 

The  resulting  settlement  of  Kansas  was  stimulated 
little  by  the  ordinary  westward  impulse  but  greatly 
by  political  ambition  and  sectional  rivalry.  As 
late  as  October,  1853,  there  had  been  almost  no 
whites  in  the  Indian  Country.  Early  in  1854  they 
began  to  come  in,  in  increasing  numbers.  The 
Emigrant  Aid  Society  sent  its  parties  at  once,  before 
the  ink  was  dry  on  the  treaties  of  cession  and  before 
land  offices  had  been  opened.  The  approach  was 
by  the  Missouri  River  steamers  to  Kansas  City  and 
Westport,  near  the.  bend  of  the  river,  where  was  the 
gateway  into  Kansas.  The  Delaware  cession,  north 
of  the  Kansas  River,  was  not  yet  open  to  legal  occu- 
pation, but  the  Shawnee  lands  had  been  ceded  com- 
pletely and  would  soon  be  ready.  So  the  New  Eng- 
land companies  worked  their  way  on  foot,  or  in  hired 
wagons,  up  the  right  bank  of  the  Kansas,  hunting 
for  eligible  sites.  About  thirty  miles  west  of  the 
Missouri  line  and  the  old  Shawnee  mission  they 


KANSAS  AND  THE   INDIAN  FRONTIER          131 

picked  their  spot  late  in  July.  The  town  of  Law- 
rence grew  out  of  their  cluster  of  tents  and  cabins/ 

It  was  more  than  two  months  after  the  arrival  of 
the  squatters  at  Lawrence  before  the  first  governor 
of  the  new  territory,  Andrew  H.  Reeder,  made  his 
appearance  at  Fort  Leavenworth  and  established 
civil  government  in  Kansas.  One  of  his  first  expe- 
riences was  with  the  attempt  of  United  States  officers 
at  the  post  to  secure  for  themselves  pieces  of  the  Dela- 
ware lands  which  surrounded  it.  "  While  lying  at 
the  fort/'  wrote  a  surveyor  who  left  early  in  Sep- 
tember to  run  the  Nebraska  boundary  line,  "we 
heard  a  great  deal  about  those  d — d  squatters  who 
were  trying  to  steal  the  Leavenworth  site."  None 
of  the  Delaware  lands  were  open  to  settlement,  since 
the  United  States  had  pledged  itself  to  sell  them  all 
at  public  auction  for  the  Indians'  benefit.  But 
certain  speculators,  including  officers  of  the  regular 
army,  organized  a  town  company  to  preempt  a  site 
near  the  fort,  where  they  thought  they  foresaw  the 
great  city  of  the  West.  They  relied  on  the  immunity 
which  usually  saved  pilferers  on  the  Indian  lands, 
and  seem  even  to  have  used  United  States  soldiers 
to  build  their  shanties.  They  had  begun  to  dispose 
of  their  building  lots  "in  this  discreditable  business" 
four  weeks  before  the  first  of  the  Delaware  trust 
lands  were  put  on  sale. 

However  bitter  toward  each  other,  the  settlers 
were  agreed  in  their  attitude  toward  the  Indians,  and 
squatted  regardless  of  Indian  rights  or  United  States 


132  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

laws.  Governor  Reeder  himself  convened  his  legis- 
lature, first  at  Pawnee,  whence  troops  from  Fort 
Riley  ejected  it;  then  at  the  Shawnee  mission,  close 
to  Kansas  City,  where  his  presence  and  its  were 
equally  without  authority  of  law.  He  established 
election  precincts  in  unceded  lands,  and  voting  places 
at  spots  where  no  white  man  could  go  without  vio- 
lating the  law.  The  legal  snarl  into  which  the 
settlers  plunged  reveals  the  inconsistencies  in  the 
Indian  policy.  It  is  even  intimated  that  Governor 
Reeder  was  interested  in  a  land  scheme  at  Pawnee 
similar  to  that  at  Fort  Leavenworth. 

The  fight  for  Kansas  began  immediately  after  the 
arrival  of  Governor  Reeder  and  the  earliest  immi- 
grants. The  settlers  actually  in  residence  at  the 
commencement  of  1855  seem  to  have  been  about 
8500.  Propinquity  gave  Missouri  an  advantage  at 
the  start,  when  the  North  was  not  yet  fully  aroused. 
At  an  election  for  territorial  legislature  held  on 
March  30,  1855,  the  threat  of  Senator  Atchison  was 
revealed  in  all  its  fulness  when  more  than  6000 
votes  were  counted  among  a  population  which 
had  under  3000  qualified  voters.  Missouri  men 
had  ridden  over  in  organized  bands  to  colonize 
the  precincts  and  carry  the  election.  The  whole 
area  of  settlement  was  within  an  easy  two  days'  ride 
of  the  Missouri  border.  The  fraud  was  so  crude  that 
Governor  Reeder  disavowed  certain  of  the  results, 
yet  the  resulting  legislature,  meeting  in  July,  1855, 
was  able  to  expel  some  of  its  anti-slavery  members, 


KANSAS   AND  THE  INDIAN  FRONTIER          133 

while  the  rest  resigned.  It  adopted  the  Missouri 
code  of  law,  thus  laying  the  foundations  for  a  slave 
state.  i ' 

The  political  struggle  over  Kansas  became  more 
intense  on  the  border  and  more  absorbing  in  the 
nation  in  the  next  four  years.  The  free-state  men, 
as  the  settlers  around  Lawrence  came  to  be  known, 
disavowed  the  first  legislature  on  the  ground  of  its 
fraudulent  election,  while  President  Pierce  steadily 
supported  it  from  Washington.  Governor  Reeder 
was  removed  during  its  session,  seemingly  because 
he  had  thrown  doubts  upon  its  validity.  Protesting 
against  it,  the  northerners  held  a  series  of  meetings 
in  the  autumn,  around  Lawrence,  and  Topeka,  some 
twenty-five  miles  further  up  the  Kansas  River,  and 
crystallized  their  opposition  under  Dr.  Robinson. 
Their  efforts  culminated  at  Topeka  in  October  in  a 
spontaneous,  but  in  this  instance  revolutionary,  con- 
vention which  framed  a  free-state  constitution  for 
Kansas  and  provided  for  erecting  a  rival  adminis- 
tration. Dr.  Robinson  became  its  governor. 

Before  the  first  legislature  under  the  Topeka 
constitution  assembled,  Kansas  had  still  further 
trouble.  Private  violence  and  mob  attacks  began 
during  the  fall  of  1855.  What  is  known  as  the 
Wakarusa  War  occurred  in  November,  when  Sheriff 
Jones  of  Douglas  County  tried  to  arrest  some  free- 
state  men  at  Lecompton,  and  met  with  strong  re- 
sistance reenforced  with  Sharpe  rifles  from  New 
England.  Governor  Wilson  Shannon,  who  had 


134  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

succeeded  Reeder,  patched  up  peace,  but  hostility 
continued  through  the  winter.  Lawrence  was  in- 
creasingly the  centre  of  northern  settlement  and  the 
object  of  pro-slave  aggression.  A  Missouri  mob 
visited  it  on  May  21,  1856,  and  in  the  approving 
presence,  it  is  said,  of  Sheriff  Jones,  sacked  its  hotel 
and  printing  shop,  and  burned  the  residence  of  Dr. 
Robinson. 

In  the  fall  a  free-state  crowd  marched  up  the  river 
and  attacked  Lecompton,  but  within  a  week  of  the 
sacking  of  Lawrence  retribution  was  visited  upon  the 
pro-slave  settlers.  In  cold  blood,  five  men  were 
murdered  at  a  settlement  on  Potawatomi  Creek,  by 
a  group  of  fanatical  free-state  men.  Just  what 
provocation  John  Brown  and  his  family  had  received 
which  may  excuse  his  revenge  is  not  certain.  In 
many  instances  individual  anti-slavery  men  retali- 
ated lawlessly  upon  their  enemies.  But  the  leaders 
of  the  Lawrence  party  have  led  also  in  censuring 
Brown  and  in  disclaiming  responsibility  for  his  acts. 
It  is  certain  that  in  this  struggle  the  free-state  party, 
in  general,  wanted  peaceful  settlement  of  the  country, 
and  were  staking  their  fortunes  and  families  upon  it. 
They  were  ready  for  defence,  but  criminal  aggres- 
sion was  no  part  of  their  platform. 

The  course  of  Governor  Shannon  reached  its  end 
in  the  summer  of  1856.  He  was  disliked  by  the  free- 
state  faction,  while  his  personal  habits  gave  no  re- 
spectability to  the  pro-slave  cause.  At  the  end  of 
his  regime  the  extra-legal  legislature  under  the  To- 


KANSAS  AND  THE  INDIAN  FRONTIER          135 

peka  constitution  was  prevented  by  federal  troops 
from  convening  in  session  at  Topeka.  A  few  weeks 
later  Governor  John  W.  Geary  superseded  him  and 
established  his  seat  of  government  in  Lecompton, 
by  this  time  a  village  of  some  twenty  houses.  It 
took  Geary,  an  honest,  well-meaning  man,  only 
six  weeks  to  fall  out  with  the  pro-slave  element  and 
the  federal  land  officers.  He  resigned  in  March,  1857. 
Under  Governor  Robert  J.  Walker,  who  followed 
Geary,  the  first  official  attempt  at  a  constitution  was 
entered  upon.  The  legislature  had  already  sum- 
moned a  convention  which  sat  at  Lecompton  during 
September  and  October.  Its  constitution,  which 
was  essentially  pro-slavery,  however  it  was  read,  was 
ratified  before  the  end  of  the  year  and  submitted  to 
Congress.  But  meanwhile  the  legislature  which 
called  the  convention  had  fallen  into  free-state  hands, 
disavowed  the  constitution,  and  summoned  another 
convention.  At  Leavenworth  this  convention 
framed  a  free-state  constitution  in  March,  which  was 
ratified  by  popular  vote  in  May,  1858.  Governor 
Walker  had  already  resigned  in  December,  1857. 
Through  holding  an  honest  election  and  purging  the 
returns  of  slave-state  frauds  he  had  enabled  the  free- 
state  party  to  secure  the  legislature.  Southerner^ 
though  he  was,  he  choked  at  the  political  dishonesty 
of  the  administration  in  Kansas.  He  had  yielded 
to  the  evidence  of  his  eyes,  that  the  population  of 
Kansas  possessed  a  large  free-state  majority.  But 
so  yielding  he  had  lost  the  confidence  of  Washington, 


136  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Even  Senator  Douglas,  the  patron  of  the  popular 
sovereignty  doctrine,  had  now  broken  with  President 
Buchanan,  recognizing  the  right  of  the  people  to 
form  their  own  institutions.  No  attention  was  ever 
paid  by  Congress  to  this  Leavenworth  constitution, 
but  when  the  Lecompton  constitution  was  finally 
submitted  to  the  people  by  Congress,  in  August, 
1858,  it  was  defeated  by  more  than  11,000  votes  in  a 
total  of  13,000.  Kansas  was  henceforth  in  the  hands 
of  the  actual  settlers.  A  year  later,  at  Wyandotte, 
it  made  a  fourth  constitution,  under  which  it  at  last 
entered  the  union  on  January  29,  1861.  "In  the 
Wyandotte  Convention, "  says  one  of  the  local  his- 
torians, "there  were  a  few  Democrats  and  one  or 
two  cranks,  and  probably  both  were  of  some  use  in 
their  way." 

There  had  been  no  white  population  in  Kansas  in 
1853,  and  no  special  desire  to  create  one.  But  the 
political  struggle  had  advertised  the  territory  on  a 
large  scale,  while  the  whole  West  was  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the^agricultural  boom  that  was  extending 
settlement  into  Wisconsin,  Minnesota,  and  Iowa. 
Governor  Reeder's  census  in  1855  found  that  about 
85QQ  had  come  in  since  the  erection  of  the  territory. 
The  rioting  and  fighting,  the  rumors  of  Sharpe  rifles 
and  the  stories  of  Lawrence  and  Potawatomi, 
instead  of  frightening  settlers  away,  drew  them  there 
in  increasing  thousands.  Some  few  came  from  the 
South,  but  the  northern  majority  was  overwhelm- 
ing before  the  panic  of  1857  laid  its  heavy  hand 


KANSAS  AND  THE  INDIAN  FRONTIER          137 

upon  expansion.     There  was  a  white  population  of 
lQ6,39(Hn  I860. 

The  westward  movement,  under  its  normal  influ- 
ences, had  extended  the  range  of  prosperous  agri- 
cultural settlement  into  the  Northwest  in  this  past 
decade.  It  had  cooperated  in  the  extension  into  that 
part  of  the  old  desert  now  known  as  Kansas.  But 
chiefly  politics,  and  secondly  the  call  of  the  West, 
is  the  order  of  causes  which  must  explain  the  first 
westward  advance  of  the  agricultural  frontier  since 
1820.  Even  in  1860  the  population  of  Kansas  was 
almost  exclusively  within  a  three  days'  journey,  of 
the  Missouri  bend. 


CHAPTER  IX 

"  PIKERS    PEAK    OR    BUST"1 

THE  territory  of  Kansas  completed  the  political 
organization  of  the  prairies.  Before  1854  there  had 
been  a  great  stretch  of  land  beyond  Missouri  and 
the  Indian  frontier  without  any  semblance  of  organi- 
zation or  law.  Indeed  within  the  area  whites  had 
been  forbidden  to  enter,  since  here  was  the  final 
abode  of  the  Indians.  But  with  the  Kansas-Ne- 
braska act  all  this  was  changed.  In  five  years  a 
series  of  Dimorphous  territories  had  been  provided  for 
by  law. 

Along  the  line  of  the  frontier  were  now  three  dis- 
tinct divisions.  From  the  Canadian  border  to  the 
fortieth  parallel,  Nebraska  extended.  Kansas  lay 
between  40°  and  37°.  Lying  west  of  Arkansas,  the 
old  Indian  Country,  now  much  reduced  by  parti- 
tion, embraced  the  rest.  The  whole  plains  country, 
east  of  the  mountains,  was  covered  by  these  terri- 
torial projects.  Indian  Territory  was  without  the 
government  which  its  name  implied,  but  popular 
parlance  regarded  it  as  the  others  and  refused  to 
see  any  difference  among  them. 

1  This  chapter  is  in  part  based  upon  my  article  on  "  The  Terri- 
tory of  Colorado  "  which  was  published  in  The  American  Historical 
Review  in  October,  1906. 

138 


"PIKE'S  PEAK  OR  BUST"  139 

Beyond  the  mountain  wall  which  formed  the 
western  boundary  of  Kansas  and  Nebraska  lay  four 
other  territories  equally  without  particular  reason 
for  their  shape  and  bounds.  Oregon,  acquired  in 
1846,  had  been  divided  in  1853  by  a  line  starting 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  and  running  east  to  the 
Rockies,  cutting  off  Washington  territory  on  its 
northern  side.  The  Utah  territory  which  figured  in 
the  compromise  of  1850,  and  which  Mormon  migra- 
tion had  made  necessary,  extended  between  Califor- 
nia and  the  Rockies,  from  Oregon  at  42°  to  New 
Mexico  at  37°.  New  Mexico,  also  of  the  compro- 
mise year,  reached  from  Texas  to  California,  south 
of  37°,  and  possessed  at  its  northeast  corner  a  pan- 
handle which  carried  it  north  to  38°  in  order  to  leave 
in  it  certain  old  Mexican  settlements. 

These  divisions  of  the  West  embraced  in  1854 
the  whole  of  the  country  between  California  and  the 
states.  As  yet  their  boundaries  were  arbitrary  and 
temporary,  but  they  presaged  movements  of  popula- 
tion which  during  the  next  quarter  century  should 
break  them  up  still  further  and  provide  real  colonies 
in  place  of  the  desert  and  the  Indian  Country. 
Congress  had  no  formative  part  in  the  work.  Popu- 
lation broke  down  barriers  and  showed  the  way, 
while  laws  followed  and  legalized  what  had  been 
done.  The  map  of  1854  reveals  an  intent  to  let  the 
mountain  summit  remain  a  boundary,  and  contains 
no  prophecy  of  the  four  states  which  were  shortly  to 
appear. 


140 


THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 


For  several  decades  the  area  of  Kansas  territory, 
and  the  southern  part  of  Nebraska,  had  been  well 
known  as  the  range  of  thjBjplains  Indians,  —  Pawnee 
and  Sioux,  Arapaho  and  Cheyenne,  Kiowa,  Co- 
manche  and  Apache.  Through  this  range  the  cara- 


THE  WEST  IN  1854 

Great  amorphous  territories  now  covered  all  the  plains,  and  the  Rocky 
Mountains  were  recognized  only  as  a  dividing  line. 

vans  had  gone.  Here  had  been  constant  military 
expeditions  as  well.  It  was  a  common  summer's 
campaign  for  a  dragoon  regiment  to  go  out  from  Fort 
Leavenworth  to  the  mountains  by  either  the  Arkan- 
sas or  Platte  route,  to  skirt  the  eastern  slopes  along 
the  southern  fork  of  the  Platte,  and  return  home 
by  the  other  trail.  Those  military  demonstraiJong, 


"PIKE'S  PEAK  OR  BUST"  141 

which  were  believed  to  be  needed  to  impress  the 
tribes,  had  made  this  march  a  regular  performance. 
Colonel  Dodge  had  done  it  in  the  thirties,  Sumner 
and  Sedgwick  did  it  in  1857,  and  there  had  been  nu- 
merous others  in  between.  A  well-known  trail  had 
been  worn  in  this  wise  from  Fort  Laramie,  on  the 
north,  through  St.  Vrain's,  crossing  the  South  Platte 
at  Cherry  Creek,  past  the  Fontaine  qui  Bouille,  and 
on  to  Bent's  Fort  and  the  New  Mexican  towns. 
Yet  Kansas  had  slight  interest  in  its  western  end. 
Along  the  Missouri  the  sections  were  quarrelling 
over  slavery,  but  they  had  scarcely  scratched  the 
soil  for  one-fourth  of  the  length  of  the  territory. 

The  crest  of  the  continent,  lying  at  the  extreme 
west  of  Kansas,  b^between  the  greatjtrails,  so  that 
it  was  off  the  course  of  the  chief  migrations,  and 
none  visited  it  for  its  own  sake.  The  deviating 
trails,  which  commenced  at  the  Missouri  bend,  were 
some  250  miles  apart  at  the  one  hundred  and  third 
meridian.  Here  was  the  land  which  Kansas  baptized 
in  1855  as  the  county  of  Arapahoe,  and  whence  arose 
the  hills  around  Pike's  Peak,  which  rumor  came  in 
three  years  more  to  tip  with  gold. 

The  discovery  of  gold  in  California  prepared  the 
public  for  similar  finds  in  other  parts  of  the  West. 
With  many  of  the  emigrants  prospecting  had  become 
a  habit  that  sent  small  bands  into  the  mountain 
valleys  from  Washington  to  New  Mexico.  Stories 
of  success  in  various  regions  arose  repeatedly  during 
the  fifties  and  are  so  reasonable  that  it  is  not  possible 


142  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

to  determine  with  certainty  the  first  finds  in  many 
localities.  Any  mountain  stream  in  the  whole 
system  might  be  expected  to  contain  some  gold,  but 
deposits  large  enough  to  justify  a  boom  were  slow 
in  coming. 

In  January! 859,  six  quills  of  gold,  brought  in  to 
OmaEa  frorn  the  mountains,  confirmed  the  rumors 
of  a  new  discovery  that  had  been  persistent  for  sev- 
eral months.  The  previous  summer  had  seen  or- 
ganized attempts  to  locate  in  the  Pike's  Peak  region 
the  deposits  whose  existence  had  been  believed  in, 
more  or  less,  since  1850.  Parties  from  the  gold 
fields  of  Georgia,  from  Lawrence,  and  from  Lecomp- 
ton  are  known  to  have  been  in  the  field  and  to  have 
started  various  mushroom  settlements.  El  Paso, 
near  the  present  site  of  Colorado  Springs,  appeared, 
as  well  as  a  group  of  villages  at  the  confluence  of  the 
South  Platte  and  the  half-dry  bottom  of  Cherry 
Creek,  —  Montana,  Auraria,  Highland,  and  St. 
Charles.  Most  of  the  gold-seekers  returned  to  the 
States  before  winter  set  in,  but  a  few,  encouraged  by 
trifling  finds,  remained  to  occupy  their  flimsy  cabins 
or  to  jump  the  claims  of  the  absentees.  In  the 
sands  of  Cherry  Creek  enough  gold  was  found  to  hold 
the  finders  and  to  start  a  small  migration  thither 
in  the  autumn.  In  the  early  winter  the  groups  on 
Cherry  Creek  coalesced  and  assumed  the  name  of 
Denver  City. 

The  news  of  Pike's  Peak  gold  reached  the  Missouri 
Valley  at  the  strategic  moment  when  the  newness  of 


"PIKE'S  PEAK  OR  BUST"  143 

Kansas  had  worn  off,  and  the  depression  of  1857  had 
brought  bankruptcy  to  much  of  the  frontier.  The 
adventurous  pioneers,  who  were  always  ready  to 
move,  had  been  reenforced  by  individuals  down  on 
their  luck  and  reduced  to  any  sort  of  extremity. 
The  way  had  been  prepared  for  a  heavy  emigration 
to  the  newjiggings  which  started  in  the  fall  of  1858 
and  assumed  great  volume  in  the  spring  of  1859. 

The  edge  of  the  border  for  these  emigrant's  was  not 
much  farther  west  than  it  had  been  for  emigrants  of 
the  preceding  decade.  A  few  miles  from  the  Missouri 
River  all  traces  of  Kansas  or  Nebraska  disappeared, 
whether  one  advanced  by  the  Platte  or  the  Arkansas, 
or  by  the  intermediate  routes  of  the  Smoky  Hill  and 
Republican.  The  destination  was  less  than  half  as 
far  away  as  California  had  been.  No  mountains  and 
no  terrible  deserts  were  to  be  crossed.  The  costs  and 
hardships  of  the  journey  were  less  than  any  that  had 
heretofore  separated  the  frontier  from  a  western  goal. 
There  is  a  glimpse  of  the  bustling  life  around  the  head 
of  the  trails  in  a  letter  which  General  W.  T.  Sherman 
wrote  to  his  brother  John  from  Leavenworth  City, 
on  April  30,  1859:  "At  this  moment  we  are  in 
the  midst  of  a  rush  to  Pike's  Peak.  Steamboats 
arrive  in  twos  and  threes  each  day,  loaded  with 
people  for  the  new  gold^egion.  The  streets  are  full 
of  people  buying  flour,  l)acon,  and  groceries,  with 
wagons  and  outfits,  and  all  around  the  town  are 
little  camps  preparing  to  go  west.  A  daily  stage 
goes  west  to  Fort  Riley,  135  miles,  and  every  morning 


144  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

two  spring  wagons,  drawn  by  four  mules  and  capable 
of  carrying  six  passengers,  start  for  the  Peak,  dis- 
tance six  hundred  miles,  the  journey  to  be  made  in 
twelve  days.  As  yet  the  stages  all  go  out  and  don't 
return,  according  to  the  plan  for  distributing  the 
carriages ;  but  as  soon  as  they  are  distributed,  there 
will  be  two  going  and  two  returning,  making  a  good 
line  of  stages  to  Pike's  Peak.  Strange  to  say,  even 
yet,  although  probably  25^000^  people  have  actually 
gone,  we  are  without  authentic  advices  of  gold.  Ac- 
counts are  generally  favorable  as  to  words  and  de- 
scriptions, but  no  positive  physical  evidence  conies 
in  the  shape  of  gold,  and  I  will  be  incredulous  until  I 
know  some  considerable  quantity  comes  in  in  way 
of  trade." 

Throughout  the  United  States  newspapers  gave  full 
notice  to  the  new  boom,  while  a  "  Pike's  Peak  Guide/' 
based  on  a  journal  kept  by  one  of  the  early  parties, 
found  a  ready  sale.  No  single  movement  had  ever 
carried  so  heavy  a  migration  upon  the  plains  as  this, 
which  in  one  year  must  have  taken  nearly  100,000 
pioneers  to  the  mountains.  "Pike's  Peak  or  Bust!" 
was  a  common  motto  blazoned  on  their  wagon 
covers.  The  sawmill,  the  press,  and  the  stage-coach 
were  all  early  on  the  field.  Byers,  long  a  great 
editor  in  Denver,  arrived  in  April  to  distribute  an 
edition  of  his  Rocky  Mountain  News,  which  he  had 
printed  on  one  side  before  leaving  Omaha.  Thence- 
forth the  diggings  were  consistently  advertised  by  a 
resident  enthusiast.  Early  in  May  the  first  coach  of 


fill!  TIIB  IELIM  SHE 


GOLDMINES 

OF  IDAHO! 

A  mm  AMD  VERY  IJ<;HT  §R  \I4.HT  8TE41EI  VIIIJ.  HtU 


Ml  LOU  FOR  BIGBOBI  CITY! 

THB  JUNCTION  OP  BIGHORN  AND  YELLOW  STONE  RIVERS 

SATURDAY,  APMaT  12  O'CLOCK  M. 


i  mi  «LSO  SEND  M  licHT 

TO  FORT  BEN  TOM 


Ba.i«fk  ffar 

"  Fri':-llt  '"'  **»**•  -  O.  COPELIN 

fT«p>«    IAMW    I     uiti     *    * 


"Ho  FOR  THE  YELLOW  STONE" 

Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  Montana  Historical  Society,  from  the  original  handbill  in 

its  possession. 


"PIKE'S  PEAK  OR  BUST"  145 

the  Leavenworth  and  Pike's  Peak  Express  Company 
brought  Henry  Villard^into  Denver.  In  June  came 
no  less  a  personagcTthan  Horace  Greeley  to  see  for 
himself  the  new  wonder.  ' '  Mine  eyes  have  never  yet 
been  blessed  with  the  sight  of  any  floor  whatever 
in  either  Denver  or  Auraria,"  he  could  write  of  the 
village  of  huts  which  he  inspected.  The  seal  of 
approval  which  his  letters  set  upon  the  enterprise 
did  much  to  encourage  it. 

With  the  rush  of  prospectors  to  the  hills,  nu- 
merous new  camps  quickly  appeared.  Thirty 
miles  north  along  the  foothills  and  mesas  Boulder 
marked  the  exit  of  a  mountain  creek  upon  the 
plains.  Behind  Denver,  in  Clear  Creek  Valley, 
were  Golden,  at  the  mouth,  and  Black  Hawk  and 
Central  City  upon  the  north  fork  of  the  stream. 
Idaho  Springs  and  Georgetown  were  on  its  south 
fork.  Here  in  the  Gregory  distriqt  was  the  active 
life  of  the  diggings.  The  great  extent  of  the  gold 
belt  to  the  southwest  was  not  yet  fully  known. 
Farther  south  was  Pueblo,  on  the  Arkansas,  and  a 
line  of  little  settlements  working  up  the  valley,  by 
Canyon  City  to  Oro,  where  Leadville  now  stands. 

Reaction  followed  close  upon  the  heels  of  the 
boom,  beginning  its  work  before  the  last  of  the  out- 
ward bound  had  reached  the  diggings.  Gold  was 
to  be  found  in  trifling  quantities  in  many  places, 
but  the  mob  of  inexperienced  miners  had  little 
chance  for  fortune.  The  great  deposits,  which  were 
some  months  in  being  discovered,  were  in  refractory 


146  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

quartz  lodes,  calling  for  heavy  stamp  mills,  chemical 
processes,  and,  above  all,  great  capital  for  their 
working.  Even  for  laborers  there  was  no  demand 
commensurate  with  the  number  of  the  fifty-niners. 
Hence,  more  than  half  of  these  found  their  way 
back  to  the  border  before  the  year  was  over,  bitter, 
disgusted,  and  poor,  scrawling  on  deserted  wagons,  in 
answer  to  the  outward  motto,  " Busted!  By  Gosh!" 
The  problem  of  government  was  born  when  the 
first  squatters  ran  the  lines  of  Denver  City.  Here 
was  a  new  settlement  far  away  from  the  seat  of  terri- 
torial government,  while  the  government  itself  was 
impotent.  Kansas  had  no  legislature  competent  to 
administer  law  at  home  — far  less  in  outlying  colonies. 
But  spontaneous  self-government  came  easily  to  the 
new  town.  "Just  to  think,"  wrote  one  of  the  pio- 
neers in  his  diary,  "that  within  two  weeks  of  the 
arrival  of  a  few  dozen  Americans  in  a  wilderness,  they 
set  to  work  to  elect  a  Delegate  to  the  United  States 
Congress,  and  ask  to  be  set  apart  as  a  new  Territory! 
But  we  are  of  a  fast  race  and  in  a  fast  age  and  must 
prod  along."  An  early  snow  in  November,  1858, 
had  confined  the  miners  to  their  cabins  and  started 
politics.  The  result  had  been  the  election  of  two 
delegates,  one  to  Congress  and  one  to  Kansas  legisla- 
ture, both  to  ask  for  governmental  direction.  Kan- 
sas responded  in  a  few  weeks,  creating  five  new 
counties  west  of  104°,  and  chartering  a  city  of  St. 
Charles,  long  after  St.  Charles  had  been  merged  into 
Denver.  Congress  did  nothing. 


" PIKE'S  PEAK  OR  BUST"  147 

The  prospective  immigration  of  1859  inspired 
further  and  more  comprehensive  attempts  at  local 
government.  It  was  well  understood  that  the  news 
of  gold  would  send  in  upon  Denver  a  wave  of  popu- 
lation and  perhaps  a  reign  of  lawlessness.  The 
adjournment  of  Congress  without  action  in  their 
behalf  made  it  certain  that  there  could  be  no  aid  from 
this  quarter  for  at  least  a  year,  and  became  the 
occasion  for  a  caucus  in  Denver  over  which  William 
Larimer  presided  on  April  11,  1859.  As  a  result  of 
this  caucus,  a  call  was  issued  for  a  convention  of 
representatives  of  the  neighboring  mining  camps  to 
meet  in  the  same  place  four  days  later.  On  April 
15,  six  camps  met  through  their  delegates,  "  being 
fully  impressed  with  the  belief,  from  early  and  recent 
precedents,  of  the  power  and  benefits  and  duty  of 
self-government/7  and  feeling  an  imperative  neces- 
sity "for  an  immediate  and  adequate  government, 
for  the  large  population  now  here  and  soon  to  be 
among  us  ...  and  also  believing  that  a  territorial 
government  is  not  such  as  our  large  and  peculiarly 
situated  population  demands." 

The  deliberations  thus  informally  started  ended  in 
a  formal  call  for  a  constitutional  convention  to  meet 
in  Denver  on  the  first  Monday  in  June,  for  the  pur- 
pose, as  an  address  to  the  people  stated,  of  framing  a 
constitution  for  a  new  " state  of  Jefferson."  "Shall 
it  be,"  the  address  demanded,  "the  government  of 
the  knife  and  the  revolver,  or  shall  we  unite  in  forming 
here  in  our  golden  country,  among  the  ravines  and 


148  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

gulches  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  the  fertile 
valleys  of  the  Arkansas  and  the  Platte,  a  new 
and  independent  State  ?"  The  boundaries  of  the 
prospective  state  were  named  in  the  call  as  the  one 
hundred  and  second  and  one  hundred  and  tenth 
meridians  of  longitude,  and  the  thirty-seventh 
and  forty-third  parallels  of  north  latitude  —  includ- 
ing with  true  frontier  amplitude  large  portions  of 
Utah  and  Nebraska  and  nearly  half  of  Wyoming, 
in  addition  to  the  present  state  of  Colorado. 

When  the  statehood  convention  met  in  Denver  on 
June  6,  the  time  was  inopportune  for  concluding 
the  movement,  since  the  reaction  had  set  in.  The 
height  of  the  gold  boom  was  over,  and  the  return 
migration  left  it  somewhat  doubtful  whether  any 
permanent  population  would  remain  in  the  country 
to  need  a  state.  So  the  convention  met  on  the  6th, 
appointed  some  eight  drafting  committees,  and  ad- 
journed, to  await  developments,  until  August  1. 
By  this  later  date,  the  line  had  been  drawn  between 
the  confident  and  the  discouraged  elements  in  the 
population,  and  for  six  days  the  convention  worked 
upon  the  question  of  statehood.  As  to  permanency 
there  was  now  no  doubt;  but  the  body  divided  into 
two  nearly  equal  groups,  one  advocating  immediate 
statehood,  the  other  shrinking  from  the  heavy  taxa- 
tion incident  to  a  state  establishment  and  so  prefer- 
ring a  territorial  government  with  a  federal  treasury 
behind  it.  The  body,  too  badly  split  to  reach  a  con- 
clusion itself,  compromised  by  preparing  the  way 


"PIKE'S  PEAK  OR  BUST"  149 

for  either  development  and  leaving  the  choice  to  a 
public  vote.  A  state  constitution  was  drawn  up 
on  one  hand;  on  the  other,  was  prepared  a  memorial 
to  Congress  praying  for  a  territorial  government,  and 
both  documents  were  submitted  to  a  vote  on  Sep- 
tember 5.  Pursuant  to  the  memorial,  which  was 
adopted,  another  election  was  held  on  October  3, 
at  which  the  local  agent  of  the  new  Leavenworth 
and  Pike's  Peak  Express  Company,  Beverly  D. 
Williams,  was  chosen  as  delegate  to  Congress. 

The  adoption  of  the  territorial  memorial  failed  to 
meet  the  need  for  immediate  government  or  to 
prevent  the  advocates  of  such  government  from 
working  out  a  provisional  arrangement  pending  the 
action  of  Congress.  On  the  day  that  Williams  was 
elected,  these  advocates  chose  delegates  for  a  pre- 
liminary territorial  constitutional  convention  which 
met  a  week  later.  "Here  we  go,"  commented 
Byers,  " a  regular  triple-headed  government  machine; 
south  of  40  deg.  we  hang  on  to  the  skirts  of  Kansas ; 
north  of  40  deg.  to  those  of  Nebraska;  straddling  the 
line,  we  have  just  elected  a  Delegate  to  the  United 
States  Congress  from  the  '  Territory  of  Jefferson/ 
and  ere  long  we  will  have  in  full  blast  a  provisional 
government  of  Rocky  Mountain  growth  and  manu- 
facture." In  this  convention  of  October  10,  1859, 
the  name  of  Jefferson  was  retained  for  the  new 
territory;  the  boundaries  of  April  15  were  retained, 
and  a  government  similar  to  the  highest  type  of 
territorial  establishment  was  provided  for.  If  the 


150  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

convention  had  met  on  the  authority  of  an  enabling 
act,  its  career  could  not  have  been  more  dignified. 
Its  constitution  was  readily  adopted,  while  officers 
under  it  were  chosen  in  an  orderly  election  on  October 
24.  Robert  W.  Steele,  of  Ohio,  became  its  governor. 
On  November  7  he  met  his  legislature  and  delivered 
his  first  inaugural  address. 

The  territory  of  Jefferson  which  thus  came  into 
existence  in  the  Pike's  Peak  region  illustrates  well 
the  spirit  of  the  American  frontier.  The  fundamental 
principle  of  American  government  which  Byers  ex- 
pressed in  connection  with  it  is  applicable  at  all 
times  in  similar  situations.  "We  claim/'  he  wrote 
in  his  Rocky  Mountain  News,  "that  any  body,  or 
community  of  American  citizens,  which  from  any 
cause  or  under  any  circumstance  is  cut  off  from,  or 
from  isolation  is  so  situated  as  not  to  be  under,  any 
active  and  protecting  branch  of  the  central  govern- 
ment, have  a  right,  if  on  American  soil,  to  frame  a 
government,  and  enact  such  laws  and  regulations  as 
may  be  necessary  for  their  own  safety,  protection, 
and  happiness,  always  with  the  condition  precedent, 
that  they  shall,  at  the  earliest  moment  when  the  cen- 
tral government  shall  extend  an  effective  organization 
and  laws  over  them,  give  it  their  unqualified  support 
and  obedience."  The  life  of  the  spontaneous  com- 
monwealth thus  called  into  existence  is  a  creditable 
witness  to  the  American  instinct  for  orderly  govern- 
ment. 

When  Congress  met  in  December,  1859,  the  pro- 


"PIKE'S  PEAK   OR  BUST"  151 

visional  territory  of  Jefferson  was  in  operation,  while 
its  delegates  in  Washington  were  urging  the  need  for 
governmental  action.  To  their  influence,  President 
Buchanan  added,  on  February  20,  1860,  a  message 
transmitting  the  petition  from  the  Pike's  Peak  coun- 
try. The  Senate,  upon  April  3,  received  a  report 
from  the  Committee  on  Territories  introducing  Sen- 
ate Bill  No.  366,  for  the  erection  of  Colorado  terri- 
tory, while  Grow  of  Pennsylvania  reported  to  the 
House  on  May  10  a  bill  to  erect  in  the  same  region  a 
territory  of  Idaho.  The  name  of  Jefferson  disap- 
peared from  the  project  in  the  spring  of  1860,  its 
place  being  taken  by  sundry  other  names  for  the  same 
mountain  area.  Several  weeks  were  given,  in  part, 
to  debate  over  this  Colorado-Idaho  scheme,  though 
as  usual  the  debate  turned  less  upon  the  need  for 
this  territorial  government  than  upon  the  attitude 
which  the  bill  should  take  toward  the  slavery  issue. 
The  slavery  controversy  prevented  territorial  legis- 
lation in  this  session,  but  the  reasonableness  of  the 
Colorado  demand  was  well  established. 

The_territory  of_Jeffersoji,  as  organized  in  No- 
vember, 1859,  had  been  from  the  first  recognized  as 
merely  a  temporary  expedient.  The  movement 
for  it  had  gained  weight  in  the  summer  of  that  year 
from  the  probability  that  it  need  not  be  maintained 
for  many  months.  When  Congress,  however,  failed 
in  the  ensuing  session  of  1859-1860  to  grant  the 
relief  for  which  the  pioneers  had  prayed,  the  wisdom 
of  continuing  for  a  second  year  the  life  of  a  govern- 


152  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

ment  admitted  to  be  illegal  came  into  question. 
The  first  session  of  its  legislature  had  lasted  from 
November  7,  1859,  to  January  25,  1860.  It 
had  passed  comprehensive  laws  for  the  regulation  of 
titles  in  lands,  water,  and  mines,  and  had  adopted 
civil  and  criminal  codes.  Its  courts  had  been  es- 
tablished and  had  operated  with  some  show  of 
authority.  But  the  service  and  obedience  to  the 
government  had  been  voluntary,  no  funds  being  on 
hand  for  the  payment  of  salaries  and  expenses.  One 
of  the  pioneers  from  Vermont  wrote  home,  "  There  is 
no  hopes  [sic]  of  perfect  quiet  in  our  governmental 
matters  until  we  are  securely  under  the  wing  of  our 
National  Eagle."  In  his  proclamation  calling  the 
second  election  Governor  Steele  announced  that 
"all  persons  who  expect  to  be  elected  to  any  of  the 
above  offices  should  bear  in  mind  that  there  will  be 
no  salaries  or  per  diem  allowed  from  this  territory, 
but  that  the  General  Government  will  be  memorial- 
ized to  aid  us  in  our  adversity." 

Upon  this  question  of  revenue  the  territory  of 
Jefferson  was  wrecked.  Taxes  could  not  be  col- 
lected, since  citizens  had  only  to  plead  grave  doubts 
as  to  the  legality  in  order  to  evade  payment.  "We 
have  tried  a  Provisional  Government,  and  how  has 
it  worked,"  asked  William  Larimer  in  announcing 
his  candidacy  for  the  office  of  territorial  delegate. 
"  It  did  well  enough  until  an  attempt  was  made  to 
tax  the  people  to  support  it."  More  than  this,  the 
real  need  for  the  government  became  less  apparent 


"PIKE'S  PEAK  OR  BUST"  153 

as  1860  advanced,  for  the  scattered  communities 
learned  how  to  obtain  a  reasonable  peace  without 
it.  American  mining  camps  are  peculiarly  free  from 
the  need  for  superimposed  government.  The  new 
camp  at  once  organizes  itself  on  a  democratic  basis, 
and  in  mass  meeting  registers  claims,  hears  and 
decides  suits,  and  administers  summary  justice. 
Since  the  Pike's  Peak  country  was  only  a  group  of 
mining  camps,  there  proved  to  be  little  immediate 
need  for  a  central  government,  for  in  the  local  min- 
ing-district organizations  all  of  the  most  pressing 
needs  of  the  communities  could  be  satisfied.  So 
loyalty  to  the  territory  of  Jefferson,  in  the  districts 
outside  of  Denver,  waned  during  1860,  and  in  the 
summer  of  that  year  had  virtually  disappeared.  Its 
administration,  however,  held  together.  Governor 
Steele  made  efforts  to  rehabilitate  its  authority, 
was  himself  reflected,  and  met  another  legislature 
in  November. 

When  the  thirty-sixth  Congress  met  for  its  second 
session  in  December,  1860,  the  Jefferson  organization 
was  in  the  second  year  of  its  life,  yet  in  Congress 
there  was  no  better  prospect  of  quick  action  than 
there  had  been  since  1857.  Indeed  the  election  of 
Lincoln  brought  out  the  eloquence  of  the  slavery 
question  with  a  renewed  vigor  that  monopolized  the 
time  and  strength  of  Congress  until  the  end  of  Jan- 
uary. Had  not  the  departure  of  the  southern  mem- 
bers to  their  states  cleared  the  way  for  action,  it 
is  highly  improbable  that  even  this  session  would 
have  produced  results  of  importance. 


154  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

Grow  had  announced  in  the  beginning  of  the  ses- 
sion a  territorial  platform  similar  to  that  which  had 
been  under  debate  for  three  years.  Until  the  close 
of  January  the  southern  valedictories  held  the  floor, 
but  at  last  the  admission  oj  Kansas,  on  January  29, 
1861,  revealed  the  fact  that  pro-slavery  opposition 
had  departed  and  that  the  long-deferred  territorial 
scheme  could  have  a  fair  chance.  On  the  very  day 
that  Kansas  was  admitted,  with  its  western  boundary 
at  the  twenty-fifth  meridian  from  Washington,  the 
Senate  revived  its  bill  No.  366  of  the  last  session 
and  took  up  its  deliberation  upon  a  territory  for 
Pike's  Peak.  Only  by  chance  did  the  name  Colo- 
rado remain  attached  to  the  bill.  Idaho  was  at  one 
time  adopted,  but  was  amended  out  in  favor  of  the 
original  name  when  the  bill  at  last  passed  the  Senate. 
The  boundaries  were  cut  down  from  those  which  the 
territory  had  provided  for  itself.  Two  degrees  were 
taken  from  the  north  of  the  territory,  and  three 
from  the  west.  In  this  shape,  between  37°  and 
41°  north  latitude,  and  25°  and  32°  of  longitude 
west  of  Washington,  the  bill  received  the  signature 
of  President  Buchanan  on  February  28.  The 
absence  of  serious  debate  in  the  passage  of  this 
Colorado  act  is  excellent  evidence  of  the  merit  of 
the  scheme  and  the  reasons  for  its  being  so  long 
deferred. 

President  Buchanan,  content  with  approving  the 
bill,  left  the  appointment  of  the  first  officials  for 
Colorado  to  his  successor.  In  the  multitude  of 


"PIKE'S  PEAK  OR  BUST"  155 

greater  problems  facing  President  Lincoln,  this  was 
neglected  for  several  weeks,  but  he  finally  com- 
missioned General  William  Gilpin  as_Jbhe__first 
governor  of  the  territory.  Gilpin  had  long  known 
the  mountain  frontier;  he  had  commanded  a  detach- 
ment on  the  Santa  Fe  trail  in  the  forties,  and  he  had 
written  prophetic  books  upon  the  future  of  the 
country  to  which  he  was  now  sent.  His  loyalty 
was  unquestioned  and  his  readiness  to  assume  re- 
sponsibility went  so  far  as  perhaps  to  cease  to  be  a 
virtue.  He  arrived  in  Denver  on  May  29,  1861, 
and  within  a  few  days  was  ready  to  take  charge  of 
the  government  and  to  receive  from  the  hands  of 
Governor  Steele  such  authority  as  remained  in  the 
provisional  territory  of  Jefferson. 


CHAPTER  X 

FROM   ARIZONA   TO   MONTANA 

THE  Pike's  Peak  boom  was  only  one  in  a  series  of 
nnning  episodes  which,  withinTfifteen  years  of  the 
discoveries  in  California,  let  in  the  light  of  explo- 
ration and  settlement  upon  hundreds  of  valleys 
scattered  over  the^  whole_of_the  Rocky  Mountain 
West.  The  men  who  exploited  California  had 
generally  been  amateur  miners,  acquiring  skill  by 
bitter  experience;  but  the  next  decade  developed  a 
professional  class,  mobile  as  quicksilver,  restless 
and  adventurous  as  all  the  West,  which  permeated 
into  the  most  remote  recesses  of  the  mountains  and 
p^lucedj)efor^  as  the  direct 

result  of  their  search  for  gold,  not  only  Colorado, 
but  Nevada  and  Arizona,  Idaho  and  Montana. 
Activity  was  constant  during  these  years  all  along 
the  continental  divide.  New  camps  were  being 
born  overnight,  old  ones  were  abandoned  by  magic. 
Here  and  there  cities  rose  and  remained  to  mark 
success  in  the  search.  Abandoned  huts  and  half- 
worked  diggings  were  scars  covering  a  fourth  of  the 
continent. 

Colorado,  in  the  summer  of  1859,  attracted  the 
largest  of  migrations,  but  while  Denver  was  being 

156 


FROM  ARIZONA   TO  MONTANA  157 

settled  there  began,  farther  west,  a  boom  which  for 
the  present  outdid  it  in  significance.  The  old 
California  trail  from  Salt  Lake  crossed  the  Nevada 
desert  and  entered  California  by  various  passes 
through  the  Sierra  Nevadas.  Several  trading  posts 
had  been  planted  along  this  trail  by  Mormons  and 
others  during  the  fifties,  until  in  1854  thejegislature 
of  Utah  had  created  a  Carson  County  in  the  west 

— ~~— - — ~--"i~i  -  — — -    "•"•» 

end  of  the  territory  for  the  benefit  of  the  settlements 
along  the  river  of  the  same  name.  Small  discoveries 
ofj^old  were  enough  to  draw  to  this  district  a  floating 
population  which  founded  a  Carson  City  as  early  as 
1858.  But  there  were  no  indications  of  a  great  ex- 
citement until  after  the  finding  of  a  marvellously 
rich  vein  of  silver  near  Gold  Hill  in  the  spring  0^1859, 
Here,  not  far  from  Mt.  Davidson  and  but  a  few 
miles  east  of  Lake  Tahoe  and  the  Sierras,  was  the 
famous  Comstock  lode,  upon  which  it  was  possible 
within  five  years  to  build  a  state. 

TheJI/alifornia  population,  already  rushing  about 
from  one  boom  to  another  in  perpetual  prospecting, 
seized  eagerly  upon  this  new  district  in  western 
Utah.  The  stage  route  by  way  of  Sacramento  and 
Placerville  was  crowded  beyond  capacity,  while 
hundreds  marched  over  the  mo^njtain^__orj._fojot. 
"  There  was  no  difficulty  in  reaching  the  newly 
discovered  region  of  boundless  wealth,"  asserted  a 
journalistic  visitor.  "It  lay  on  the  public  highway 
to  California,  on  the  borders  of  the  state.  From 
Missouri,  from  Kansas  and  Nebraska,  from  Pike's 


158  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Peak  and  Salt  Lake,  the  tide  of  emigration  poured 
in.  Transportation  from  San  Francisco  was  easy. 
I  made  the  trip  myself  on  foot  almost  in  the  dead 
of  winter,  when  the  mountains  were  covered  with 
snow."  Carson  City  had  existed  before  the  great 
discovery.  Virginia  City,  named  for  a  renegade 
southerner,  nicknamed  "  Virginia, "  soon  followed 
it,  while  the  typical  population  of  the  mining  camps 
piled  in  around  the  two. 

In  1860  miners  came  in  from  a  larger  area.  The 
new  pony  express  ran  through  the  heart  of  the 
fields  and  aided  in  advertising  them  east  and  west. 
Colorado  was  only  one  year  ahead  in  the  public  eye. 
Both  camps  obtained  their  territorial  acts  within  the 
same  week,  that  of  Nevada  receiving  Buchanan's 
signature  on  March  2,  1861.  All  of  Utah  west 
of  the  thirty-ninth  meridian  from  Washington  be- 
came the  new  territory  which,  through  the  need  of 
the  union  for  loyal  vntfta,  gained  its  admission  as 
a^state  in  three  more  years. 

The  rush  to  Carson  valley  drew  attention  away 
from  another  mining  enterprise  further  south.  In 
the  western  half  of  New  Mexico,  between  the  Rio 
Grande  and  the  Colorado,  there  had  been  success- 
ful mining  ever  since  the  acquisition  of  the  territory. 
The  southwest  boundary  of  the  United  States  after 
the  Mexican  War  was  defined  in  words  that  could  not 
possibly  be  applied  to  the  face  of  the  earth.  This 
fact,  together  with  knowledge  that  an  easy  railway 
grade  ran  south  of  the  Gila  River,  had  led  in  1853 


a.     a 

I.-J 

M 
1 i 


FROM  ARIZONA  TO  MONTANA  159 

to  the  purchase  of  additional  land  from  Mexico 
and  the  definition  of  a  better  boundary  in  the 
Gadsden  treaty.  In  these  lands  of  the  Gadsden 
purchase  old  mines  came  to  light  in  the  years  im- 
mediately following.  Sylvester  Howry  and  Charles 
D.  Poston  were  most  active  in  promoting  the  mining 
companies  which  revived  abandoned  claims  and  de- 
veloped new  ones  near  the  old  Spanish  towns  of 
Tubac  and  Tucson.  The  region  was  too  remote 
and  life  too  hard  for  the  individual  miner  to  have 
much  chance.  Organized  mining  companies  here 
took  the  place  of~the  detached  prospector  of  Colo- 
rado and  Nevada.  Disappointed  miners  from  Cali- 
fornia came  in,  and  perhaps  "the  Vigilance  Com- 
mittee_of  San  Francisco  did  jmore  to  populate  the 
new^  Territory  than  the  silver  mines.  Tucson  be- 
came the  headquarters  of  vice,  dissipation,  and 
crime.  ...  It  was  literally  a  paradise  of  devils. " 
Excessive  dryness,  long  distances,  and  Apache  dep- 
redation discouraged  rapid  growth,  yet  the  surveys 
of  the  early  fifties  and  the  passage  of  the  overland 
mail  through  the  camps  in  1858  advertised  the 
Arizona  settlement  and  enabled  it  to  live. 

The  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War  extinguished  for  the 
time  the  Mowry  mines  and  others  in  the  Santa  Cruz 
Valley,  holding  them  in  check  till  a  second  mineral 
area  in  western  New  Mexico  should  be  found. 
United  States  army  posts  were  abandoned,  con- 
federate agents  moved  in,  and  Indians  became  bold. 
The  federal  authority  was  not  reestablished  until 


160  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Colonel  J.  H.  Carleton  led  his  California  column 
across  the  Colorado  and  through  New  Mexico  to 
Tucson  early  in  1862.  During  the  next  two  years 
he  maintained  his  headquarters  at  Santa  Fe,  carried 
on  punitive  campaigns  against  the  Navaho  and  the 
Apache,  and  encouraged  mining. 

The  Indian  campaigns  of  Carleton  and  his  aides 
in  New  Mexico  have  aroused  much  controversy. 
There  were  no  treaty  rights  by  which  the  United 
States  had  privileges  of  colonization  and  develop- 
ment. It  was  forcible  entry  and  retention,  main- 
tained in  the  face  of  bitter  opposition.  Carleton, 
with  Kit  Carson's  assistance,  waged  a  war  prscarcely 
concealed  extermination.  They  understood,  he  re- 
ported to  Washington,  "the  direct  application  of 
force  as  a  law.  If  its  application  be  removed,  that 
moment  they  become  lawless.  This  has  been  tried 
over  and  over  and  over  again,  and  at  great  expense. 
The  purpose  now  is  never  to  relax  the  application 
of  force  with  a  people  that  can  no  more  be  trusted 
than  you  can  trust  the  wolves  that  run  through 
their  mountains;  to  gather  them  together  little  by 
little,  on  to  a  reservation,  away  from  the  haunts, 
and  hills,  and  hiding-places  of  their  country,  and 
then  to  be  kind  to  them;  there  teach  their  children 
how  to  read  and  write,  teach  them  the  arts  of  peace; 
teach  them  the  truths  of  Christianity.  Soon  they 
will  acquire  new  habits,  new  ideas,  new  modes  of 
life;  the  old  Indians  will  die  off,  and  carry  with  them 
all  the  latent  longings  for  murdering  and  robbing; 


FROM  ARIZONA  TO  MONTANA  161 

the  young  ones  will  take  their  places  without  these 
longings;  and  thus,  little  by  little,  they  will  become 
a  happy  and  contented  people.77 

Howry's  mines  had  been  seized  by  Carleton  at 
the  start,  as  tainted  with  treason.  The  whole 
Tucson  district  was  believed  to  be  so  thoroughly  in 
sympathy  with  the  confederacy  that  the  commanding 
officer  was  much  relieved  when  rumors  came  of  a 
new  placer  gold  field  along  the  left  bank  of  the  Col- 
orado .River,  around  Bill  Williams  Creek.  Thither 
the  population  of  the  territory  moved  as  fast  as  it 
could.  Teamsters  and  other  army  employees  de- 
serted freely.  Carleton  deliberately  encouraged 
surveying  and  prospecting,  and  wrote  personally 
to  General  Halleck  and  Postmaster-general  Blair, 
congratulating  them  because  his  California  column 
had  found  the  gold  with  which  to  suppress  the  con- 
federacy. "One  of  the  richest  gold  countries  in 
the  world,"  he  described  it  to  be,  destined  to  be  the 
centre  of  a  new  territorial  life,  and  to  throw  into  the 
shade  "the  insignificant  village  of  Tucson." 

The  population  of  the  silver  camp  had  begun 
to  urge  Congress  to  provide  a  territory  independent 
of  New  Mexico,  immediately  after  the  development 
of  the  Mowry  mines.  Delegates  and  petitions  had 
been  sent  to  Washington  in  the  usual  style.  But 
congressional  indifference  to  new  territories  had 
blocked  progress.  The  new  discoveries  reopened 
the  case  in  1862  and  1863.  Forgetful  of  his  Indian 
wards  and  their  rights,  the  Superintendent  of  Indian 


162  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Affairs  had  told  of  the  sad  peril  of  the  "unprotected 
miners"  who  had  invaded  Indian  territory  of  clear 
title.  They  would  offer  to  the  "numerous  and 
warlike  tribes"  an  irresistible  opportunity.  The 
territorial  act  was  finally  passed  on  February  24, 
J_863,  while  the  new  capital  was  fixed  in  the  heart 
of  the  new  gold  field,  at  Forj^Whipple,  near  which 
the  cHy_ofjPrescDtt  soon  appeared. 

The  Indian  danger  in  Arizona  was  not  ended  by 
the  erection  of  a  territorial  government.  There  never 
came  in  a  population  large  enough  to  intimidate 
the  tribes,  while  bad  management  from  the  start 
provoked  needless  wars.  Most  serious  were  the 
Apache  troubles  which  began  in  1861  and  ceased 
only  after  Crook's  campaigns  in  the  early  seventies. 
In  this  struggle  occurred  the  massacre  at  Camp 
Grant  in  1871,  when  citizens  of  Tucson,  with  care- 
ful premeditation,  murdered  in  cold  blood  more 
than  eighty  Apache,  men,  women,  and  children. 
The  degree  of  provocation  is  uncertain,  but  the 
disposition  of  Tucson,  as  Mowry  has  phrased  it, 
was  not  such  as  to  strengthen  belief  in  the  justice  of 
the  attack:  "There  is  only  one  way  to  wage  war 
against  the  Apache.  A  steady,  persistent  cam- 
paign must  be  made,  following  them  to  their  haunts 
—  hunting  them  to  the ' fastnesses  of  the  mountains.' 
They  must  be  surrounded,  starved  into  coming  in, 
surprised  or  inveigled  —  by  white  flags,  or  any  other 
method,  human  or  divine  —  and  then  put  to  death. 
If  these  ideas  shock  any  weak-minded  individual 


FROM  ARIZONA  TO  MONTANA  163 

who  thinks  himself  a  philanthropist,  I  can  only  say 
that  I  pity  without  respecting  his  mistaken  sym- 
pathy. A  man  might  as  well  have  sympathy  for 
a  rattlesnake  or  a  tiger." 

The  mines  of  Arizona,  though  handicapped  by 
climate  and  inaccessibility,  brought  life  into  the 
extreme  Southwest.  Those  of  Nevada  worked  the 
partition  of  Utah.  Farther  to  the  north  the  old 
Oregon  country  gave  out  its  gold  in  these  same 
years  as  miners  opened  up  the  valleys  of  the  Snake 
and  the  head  waters  of  the  Missouri  River.  Right 
on  the  crest  of  the  continental  divide  appeared  the 
northern  group  of  mining  camps. 

The  territory  of  Washington  had  been  cut  away 
from  Oregon  at  its  own  request  and  with  Oregon's 
consent  in  1853.  It  had  no  great  population  and 
was  the  subject  of  no  agricultural  boom  as  Oregon 
had  been,  but  the  small  settlements  on  Puget  Sound 
and  around  Olympia  were  too  far  from  the  Willa- 
mette country  for  convenient  government.  When 
Oregon  was  admitted  in  1S59;  Washington  was 
made  to  include  all  the  Oregon  country  outside  the 
state,  embracing  the  present  Washington  and  Idaho, 
portions  of  Montana  and  Wyoming,  and  extending 
to  the  continental  divide.  Through  it  ran  the  over- 
land trail  from  Fort  Hall  almost  to  Walla  Walla. 
Because  of  its  urging  Congress  built  a  new  wagon 
road  that  was  passable  by  1860  from  Fort  Benton, 
on  the  upper  Missouri,  to  the  junction  of  the  Co- 
lumbia and  Snake.  Farther  east  the  active  business 


164  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

of  the  American  Fur  Company  had  by  1859  estab- 
lished steamboat  communication  from  St.  Louis 
to  Fort  Benton,  so  that  an  overland  route  to  rivat 
the  old  Platte  trail  was  now  available. 

In  eastern  Washington  the  most  important  of  the 
Indians  were  the  Nez  Percys,  whose  peaceful  habits 
and  friendly  disposition  had  been  noted  since  the 
days  of  Lewis  and  Clark,  and  who  had  permitted 
their  valley  of  the  Snake  to  become  a  main  route  to 
Oregon.  Treaties  with  these  had  been  made  in  1855 
by  Governor  Stevens,  in  accordance  with  which 
most  of  the  tribe  were  in  1860  living  on  their  reserve 
at  the  junction  of  the  Clearwater  and  Snake,  and 
were  fairly  prosperous.  Here  as  elsewhere  was  the 
specific  agreement  that  no  whites  save  government 
employees  should  be  allowed  in  the  Indian  Country; 
but  in  the  summer  of  1861  the  news  that  gold  had 
been  found  along  the  Clearwatgr  brought  the  agree- 
ment to  naught.  Gold  had  actually  been  discovered 
the  summer  before.  In  the  spring  of  1861  pack 
trains  from  Walla  Walla  brought  a  horde  of  miners 
east  over  the  range,  while  steamboats  soon  found 
their  way  up  the  Snake.  In  the  fork  between  the 
Clearwater  and  Snake  was  a  good  landing  where,  in 
the  autumn  of  1861,  sprang  up  the  new  Lewiston, 
named  in  honor  of  the  great  explorer,  acting  as 
centre  of  life  for  five  thousand  miners  in  the  district, 
and  showing  by  its  very  existence  on  the  Indian  re- 
serve the  futility  of  treaty  restrictions  in  the  face 
of  the  gold  fever.  The  troubles  of  the  Indian 


FROM  ARIZONA  TO  MONTANA  165 

department  were  great.  "To  attempt  to  restrain 
miners  would  be,  to  my  mind,  like  attempting  to 
Restrain  the  whirlwind,"  reported  Superintendent 
Kendall.  "The  history  of  California,  Australia, 
Frazer  river,  and  even  of  the  country  of  which  I  am 
now  writing,  furnishes  abundant  evidence  of  the 
attractive  power  of  even  only  reported  gold  dis- 
coveries. 

"The  mines  on  Salmon  river  have  become  a  fixed 
fact,  and  are  equalled  in  richness  by  few  recorded 
discoveries.  Seeing  the  utter  impossibility  of  pre- 
venting miners  from  going  to  the  mines,  I  have  re- 
frained from  taking  any  steps  which,  by  certain 
want  of  success,  would  tend  to  weaken  the  force  of 
the  law.  At  the  same  time  I  as  carefully  avoided 
giving  any  consent  to  unauthorized  statements, 
and  verbally  instructed  the  agent  in  charge  that, 
while  he  might  not  be  able  to  enforce  the  laws  for 
want  of  means,  he  must  give  no  consent  to  any  at- 
tempt to  lay  out  a  town  at  the  juncture  of  the  Snake 
and  Clearwater  rivers,  as  he  had  expressed  a  desire 
of  doing." 

Continued  developments  proved  that  Lewiston 
was  in  the  centre  of  a  region  of  unusual  mineral 
wealth.  The  Clearwater  fin4s  were  followed  closely 
by  discoveries  on  the  Salmon  River,  another  tribu- 
tary of  the  Snake,  a  little  farther  south.  The  Bois6 
mines  came  on  the  heels  of  this  boom,  being7olfowed 
by  a  rush  to  the  Qwyhee  district,  south  of  the  great 
bend  of  the  Snake.  Into  these  various  camps  poured 


166  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

the  usual  flood  of  miners  from  the  whole  West.  Be- 
fore 1862  was  j3ver  eastern  Washington  had  outgrown 
the  bounds  of  the  territorial  government  on  Puget 
^ound.  Like  the  Pike's  Peak  diggings,  and  the 
placers  of  the  Colorado  Valley,  and  the  parson  and 
Virginia  City  camps,  these  called  for  and  received 
a  new  territorial  establishment. 

In  1860  the  territories  of  Washington  and  Ne- 
braska had  met  along  a  common  boundary  at  the 
top  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Before  Washington 
was  divided  in  1863,  Nebraska  had  changed  its  shape 
under  the  pressure  of  a  small  but  active  population 
north  of  its  seat  of  government.  The  centres  of 
population  in  Nebraska  north  of  the  Platte  River 
represented  chiefly  overflows  from  Iowa  and  Minne- 
sota. Emigrating  from  these  states  farmers  had  by 
1860  opened  the  country  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Mis- 
souri, in  the  region  of  the  Yankton  Sioux.  The  Mis- 
souri traffic  had  developed  both  shores  of  the  river 
past  Fort  Pierre  and  Fort  Union  to  Fort  Benton,  by 
1859.  To  meet  the  needs  of  the  scattered  people 
here  Nebraska  had  been  partitioned  in  1861  along 
the  line  of  the  Missouri  and  the  forty-third  parallel. 
Dakota  had  been  created  out  of  the  country  thus  cut 
loose  and  in  two  years  more  shared  in  the  fate 
of  eastern  Washington.  Idaho  was  established  in 
1863  to  provide  home  rule  for  the  miners  of  the 
new  mineral  region.  It  included  a  great  rectangle, 
on  both  sides  of  the  Rockies,  reaching  south  to  Utah 
and  Nebraska,  west  to  its  present  western  boun- 


FROM  ARIZONA  TO  MONTANA  167 

dary  at  Oregon  and  117°,  east  to  104°,  the  present 
eastern  line  of  Montana  and  Wyoming.  Dakota 
and  Washington  were  cut  down  f orTts  safce . 

It  seemed,  in  1862  and  1863,  as  though  every  little 
rivulet  in  the  whole  mountain  country  possessed  its 
treasures  to  be  given  up  to  the  first  prospector  with 
the  hardihood  to  tickle  its  soil.  Four  important^ 
districts  along  the  upper  course  of  the  Snake,  not  to 
mention  hundreds  of  minor  ones,  lent  substance  to 
this  appearance,  Almost  before  Idaho  could  be  or- 
ganized its  area  of  settlement  had  broadened  enough 
to  make  its  own  division  in  the  near  future  a  cer- 
tainty. East  of  the  Bitter  Root  Mountains,  in  the 
head  waters  of  the  Missouri  tributaries,  came  a  long 
series  of  new  booms. 

When  the  American  Fur  Company  pushed  its 
little  steamer  Chippewa  up  to  the  vicinity  of  Fort 
Benton  in  1859,  none  realized  that  a  new  era  for 
the  upper  Missouri  had  nearly  arrived.  For  half 
a  century  the  fur  trade  had  been  followed  in  this 
region  and  had  dotted  the  country  with  tiny  forts 
and  palisades,  but  there  had  been  no  immigration, 
and  no  reason  for  any.  The  Mullan  road,  which 
Congress  had  authorized  in  1855,  was  in  course  of 
construction  from  Fort  Benton  to  Walla  Walla,  but 
as  yet  there  were  few  immigrants  to  follow  the  new 
route.  Considerably  before  the  territory  of  Idaho 
was  created,  however,  the  active  prospectors  of  the 
Snake  Valley  had  crossed  the  range  and  inspected 
most  of  the  Blackfoot  country  in  the  direction  of 


168  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Fort  Benton.  They  had  organized  for  themselves 
jLJMissoula  County,  Washington  territory,  in  July, 
1862,  an  act  which  may  be  taken  as  the  beginning 
of  an  entirely  new  movement. 

Two  brothers,  James  and  Granville  Stuart,  were 
the  leaders  in  developing  new  mineral  areas  east  of 
the  main  range.  After  experience  in  California  and 
several  years  of  life  along  the  trails,  they  settled 
down  in  the  DegrJLodge  Valley,  and  began  to  open 
up  their  mines  in  1861.  They  accomplished  little 
this  year  since  the  steamboat  to  Fort  Benton,  carry- 
ing supplies,  was  burned,  and  their  trip  to  Walla 
Walla  for  shovels  and  picks  took  up  the  rest  of  the 
season.  But  early  in  1862  they  were  hard  and  suc- 
cessfully at  work.  Reinforcements,  destined  for  the 
Salmon  River  mines  farther  west,  came  to  them  in 
June;  one  party  from  Fort  Benton,  the  other  from 
the  Colorado  diggings,  and  both  were  easily  per- 
suaded to  stay  and  join  in  organizing  Missoula 
County.  Bannack  City  became  the  centre  of  their 
operations. 

-i1  Alder  Gulch  and  Virginia  City^were.  in  1863,  a 
second  focus  for  the  mines  of  eastern  Idaho.  Their 
deposits  had  been  found  by  accident  by  a  prospect- 
ing party  which  was  returning  to  Bannack  City  after 
an  unsuccessful  trip.  The  party,  which  had  been 
investigating  the  Big  Horn  Mountains,  discovered 
Alder  Gulch  between  the  Beaver  Head  and  Madi- 
son rivers,  early  in  June.  With  an  accurate  knowl- 
edge of  the  mining  population,  the  discoverers  or- 


FROM  ARIZONA  TO  MONTANA  169 

ganized  the  mining  district  and  registered  their  own 
claims  before  revealing  the  location  of  the  new  dig- 
gings. Then  came  a  stampede  from  Bannack  City 
which  gave  to  Virginia  City  a  population  of  10,000 
by  1864. 

Another  mining  district,  in  Last  Chance  Gulch, 
gave  rise  in  1864  to  Helena,  the  last  of  the  great  boom 
towns  of  this  period.  Its  situation  as  well  as  its 
resources  aided  in  the  growth  of  Helena,  which  lay  a 
little  west  of  the  Madison  fork  of  the  Missouri,  and 
in  the  direct  line  from  Bannack  and  Virginia  City  to 
Fort  Benton.  Only  142  miles  of  easy  staging  above 
the  head  of  Missouri  River  navigation,  it  was  a 
natural  post  on  the  main  line  of  travel  to  the  north- 
west fields. 

The  excitement  over  Bannack  and  Virginia  and 
Helena  overlapped  in  years  the  period  of  similar 
boom  in  Idaho.  It  had  begun  even  before  Idaho 
had  been  created.  When  this  was  once  organized, 
the  same  inconveniences  which  had  justified  it, 
justified  as  well  its  division  to  provide  home  rule  for 
the  miners  east  of  the  Bitter  Root  range.  An  act  of 
1864  created  Montana  territory  with  the  boundaries 
which  the  state  possesses  to-day,  while  that  part  of 
Idaho  south  of  Montana,  now  Wyoming,  was  tem- 
porarily reattached  to  Dakota.  Idaho  assumed  its 
present  form.  The  simultaneous  development  in  all 
portions  of  the  great  West  of  rich  mining  camps  did 
much  to  attract  public  attention  as  well  as  population. 

In  1863  nearly  all  of  the  camps  were  flourishing. 


170  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

The  mountains  were  occupied  for  the  whole  distance 
from  Mexico  to  Canada,  while  the  trails  were 
crowded  with  emigrants  hunting  for  fortune.  The 
old  trails  bore  much  of  the  burden  of  migration  as 
usual,  but  new  spurs  were  opened  to  meet  new  needs. 
In  the  north,  the  Mullan  road  had  made  easy  travel 
from  Fort  Benton  to  Walla  Walla,  and  had  been  com- 
pleted since  1862.  Congress  authorized  in  1864  a  new 
road  from  eastern  Nebraska,  which  should  run  north 
of  the  Platte  trail,  and  the  war  department  had  sent 
out  personally  conducted  parties  of  emigrants  from 
the  vicinity  of  St.  Paul.  The  Idaho  and  Montana 
mines  were  accessible  from  Fort  Hall,  the  former  by 
the  old  emigrant  road,  the  latter  by  a  new  northeast 
road  to  Virginia  City.  The  Carson  mines  were  on 
the  main  line  of  the  California  road.  The  Arizona 
fields  were  commonly  reached  from  California,  by 
way  of  Fort  Yuma. 

The  shifting  population  which  inhabited  the  new 
territories  invites  and  at  the  same  time  defies  de- 
scription. It  was  made  up  chiefly  of  young  men. 
Respectable  women  were  not  unknown,  but  were  so 
few  in  number  as  to  have  little  measurable  influence 
upon  social  life.  In  many  towns  they  were  in  the 
minority,  even  among  their  sex,  since  the  easily  won 
wealth  of  the  camps  attracted  dissolute  women  who 
cannot  be  numbered  but  who  must  be  imagined. 
The  social  tone  of  the  various  camps  was  determined 
by  the  preponderance  of  men,  the  absence  of  regular 
labor,  and  the  speculative  fever  which  was  the 


FROM  ARIZONA  TO   MONTANA  171 

justification  of  their  existence.  The  political  tone 
was  determined  by  the  nature  of  the  population,  the 
character  of  the  industry,  and  the  remoteness  from 
a  seat  of  government.  Combined,  these  factors  pro- 
duced a  type  of  life  the  like  of  which  America  had 
never  known,  and  whose  picturesque  qualities  have 
blinded  the  thoughtless  into  believing  that  it  was  ro- 
mantic. It  was  at  best  a  hard  bitter  struggle  with 
the  dark  places  only  accentuated  by  the  tinsel  of 
gambling  and  adventure. 

A  single  street  meandering  along  a  valley,  with  one- 
story  huts  flanking  it  in  irregular  rows,  was  the  typi- 
cal mining  camp.  The  saloon  and  the  general  store, 
sometimes  combined,  were  its  representative  insti- 
tutions. Deep  ruts  along  the  street  bore  witness  to 
the  heavy  wheels  of  the  freighters,  while  horses 
loosely  tied  to  all  available  posts  at  once  revealed  the 
regular  means  of  locomotion,  and  by  the  careless 
way  they  were  left  about  showed  that  this  sort  of 
property  was  not  likely  to  be  stolen.  The  mining 
population  centring  here  lived  a  life  of  contrasts. 
The  desolation  and  loneliness  of  prospecting  and 
working  claims  alternated  with  the  excitement  of 
coming  to  town.  Few  decent  beings  habitually 
lived  in  the  towns.  The  resident  population  ex- 
pected to  live  off  the  miners,  either  in  way  of  trade, 
or  worse.  The  bar,  the  gambling-house,  the  dance- 
hall  have  been  made  too  common  in  description  to 
need  further  account.  In  the  reaction  against  lone- 
liness, the  extremes  of  drunkenness,  debauchery,  and 


172  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

murder  were  only  too  frequent  in  these  places  of 
amusement. 

That  the  camps  did  not  destroy  themselves  in  their 
own  frenzy  is  a  tribute  to  the  solid  qualities  which 
underlay  the  recklessness  and  shiftlessness  of  much 
of  the  population.  In  most  of  the  camps  there  came 
a  time  whgnjdecency  finally  asserted  itself  in^  the 
only  possible  way  to  repress  lawlessness^  The  ra- 
pidity with  which  these  camps  had  drawn  their  hun- 
dreds and  their  thousands  into  the  fastnesses  of  the 
territories  carried  them  beyond  the  limits  of  ordi- 
nary law  and  regular  institutions.  Law  and  the 
politician  followed  fast  enough,  but  there  was  gener- 
ally an  interval  after  the  discovery  during  which  such 
peace  prevailed  as  the  community  itself  demanded. 
In  absence  of  sheriff  and  constable,  and  j  ail  in  which 
to  incarcerate  offenders,  the  vigilance  committee  was 
the  only  protection  of  the  new  camp.  Such  summary 
justice  as  these  committees  commonly  executed  is 
evidence  of  innate  tendency  toward  law  and  order, 
not  of  their  defiance.  The  typical  camp  passed 
through  a  period  of  peaceful  exploitation  at  the  start, 
then  came  an  era  of  invasion  by  hordes  of  miners 
and  disreputable  hangers-on,  with  accompanying  vio- 
lence and  crime.  Following  this,  the  vigilance  com- 
mittee, in  its  stern  repression  of  a  few  of  the  crudest 
sins,  marks  the  beginning  of  a  reign  of  law. 

The  mining  camps  of  the  early  sixties  familiar- 
ized the  United  States  with  the  whole  area  of  the 
nation,  and  dispelled  most  of  the  remaining  tradition 


FROM  ARIZONA  TO  MONTANA  173 

of  desert  which  hung  over  the  mountain  West. 
They  attracted  a  large  floating  population,  they 
secured  the  completion  of  the  political  map  through 
the  erection  of  new  territories,  and  they  emphasized 
loudly  the  need  for  national  transportation  jm  a 
larger  scale  than  the  trail  and  the  stage  coach  could 
permit.  But  they  did  not  directly  secure  the  pres- 
ence of  permanent  population  in  the  new  territories. 
Arizona  and  Nevada  lost  most  of  their  inhabitants 
as  soon  as  the  first  flush  of  discovery  was  over. 
Montana,  Idaho,  and  Colorado  declined  rapidly  to  a 
fraction  of  their  largest  size.  None  of  them  was  suc- 
cessful in  securing  a  large  permanent  population  until 
agriculture  had  gained  firm  foothold.  Many  indeed 
who  came  to  mine  remained  to  plough,  but  the  per- 
manent populating  of  the  Far  West  was  the  work  of 
railways  and  irrigation  two  decades  later.  Yet  the 
mining  camps  had  served  their  purpose  in  revealing 
the  nature  of  the  whole  of  the  national  domain. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   OVERLAND   MAIL 

CLOSE  upon  the  heels  of  the  overland  migrations 
came  an  organized  traffic  to  supply  their  needs. 
Oregon,  Salt  Lake,  California,  and  all  the  later  gold 
fields,  drew  population  away  from  the  old  Missouri 
border,  scattered  it  in  little  groups  over  the  face  of 
the  desert,  and  left  it  there  crying  for  sustenance. 
Many  of  the  new  colonies  were  not  self-supporting 
for  a  decade  or  more;  few  of  them  were  independent 
within  a  year  or  two.  In  all  there  was  a  strong  de- 
mand for  necessities  and  luxuries  which  must  be 
hauled  from  the  states  to  the  new  market  by  the 
routes  which  the  pioneers  themselves  had  travelled. 
Greater  than  their  need  for  material  supplies  was  that 
for  intellectual  stimulus.  Letters,  newspapers,  and 
the  regular  carriage  of  the  mails  were  constantly  de- 
manded of  the  express  companies  and  the  post-office 
department-  To  meet  this  pressure  there  was  or- 
ganized in  the  fifties  a  great  system  of  wagon  traffic. 
In  the  years  from  1858  to  1869  it  reached  its  mighty 
culmination;  while  its  possibilities  of  speed,  order, 
and  convenience  had  only  just  come  to  be  realized 
when  the  continental  railways  brought  this  agency 
of  transportation  to  an  end. 

174 


THE  OVERLAND  MAIL  175 

The  individual  emigrant  who  had  gathered  to- 
gether his  family,  his  flocks,  and  his  household 
goods,  who  had  cut  away  from  the  life  at  home  and 
staked  everything  on  his  new  venture,  was  the  unit 
in  the  great  migrations.  There  was  no  regular  pro- 
vision for  going  unless  one  could  form  his  own  self- 
contained  and  self-supporting  party.  Various  bands 
grouped  easily  into  larger  bodies  for  common  defence, 
but  the  characteristic  feature  of  the  emigration  was 
private  initiative.  The  home-seekers  had  no  power 
in  themselves  to  maintain  communication  with 
the  old  country,  yet  they  had  no  disposition  to  be 
forgotten  or  to  forget.  Professional  freighting  com- 
panies and  carriers  of  mails  appeared  just  as  soon  as 
the  traffic  promised  a  profit. 

A  water  mail  to  California  had  been  arranged  even 
before  the  gold  discovery  lent  a  new  interest  to  the 
Pacific  Coast.  From  New  York  to  the  Isthmus, 
and  thence  to  San  Francisco,  the  mails  were  to  be 
carried  by  boats  of  the  Pacific  Mail  Steamship  Com- 
pany, which  sent  the  nucleus  of  its  fleet  around 
Cape  Horn  to  Pacific  waters  in  1848.  The  arrival 
of  the  first  mail  in  San  Francisco  in  February, 
1849,  commenced  the  regular  public  communication 
between  the  United  States  and  the  new  colonies. 
For  the  places  lying  away  from  the  coast,  mails  were 
hauled  under  contract  as  early  as  1849.  Oregon, 
Utah,  New  Mexico,  and  California  were  given  a 
measure  of  irregular  and  unsatisfactory  service. 

There  is  little  interest  in  the  earlier  phases  of  the 


176  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

overland  mail  service  save  in  that  they  foreshadowed 
greater  things.  A  stage  line  was  started  from  In- 
dependence to  Santa  Fe  in  the  summer  of  1849; 
another  contract  was  let  to  a  man  named  Woodson 
for  a  monthly  carriage  to  Salt  Lake  City.  Neither 
of  the  carriers  made  a  serious  attempt  to  stock  his 
route  or  open  stations.  Their  stages  advanced  under 
the  same  conditions,  and  with  little  more  rapidity 
than  the  ordinary  emigrant  or  freighter.  Mormon 
interests  organized  a  Great  Salt  Lake  Valley  Carrying 
Company  at  about  this  time.  For  four  or  five  years 
both  government  and  private  industry  were  experi- 
menting with  the  problems  of  long-distance  wagon 
traffic,  —  the  roads,  the  vehicles,  the  stock,  the  sta- 
tions, the  supplies.  Most  picturesque  was  the  effort 
made  in  1856,  by  the  War  Department,  to  acclimate 
the  Saharan  camel  on  the  American  desert  as  a  beast 
of  burden.  Congress  had  appropriated  $30,000  for 
the  experiment,  in  execution  of  which  Secretary 
Davis  sent  Lieutenant  H.  C.  Wayne  to  the  Levant  to 
purchase  the  animals.  Some  seventy-five  camels 
were  imported  into  Texas  and  tested  near  San  An- 
tonio. There  is  a  long  congressional  document  filled 
with  the  correspondence  of  this  attempt  and  em- 
bellished with  cuts  of  types  of  cafaiels  and  equip- 


While  the  camels  were  yet  browsing  on  the  Texas 
plains,  Congress  made  a  more  definite  movement 
towards  supplying  the  Pacific  Slope  with  adequate 
service.  It  authorized  the  Postmaster-general  in 


THE  OVERLAND  MAIL  177 

1857  to  call  for  bids  for  an  overland  mail  which,  in 
a  single  organization,  should  join  the  Missouri  to 
Sacramento,  and  which  should  be  subsidized  to  run 
at  a  high  scheduled  speed.  The  service  which  the 
Postmaster-general  invited  in  his  advertisement 
was  to  be  semi-weekly,  weekly,  or  semi-monthly  at 
his  discretion;  it  was  to  be  for  a  term  of  six  years; 
it  was  to  carry  through  the  mails  in  four-horse 
wagons  in  not  more  than  twenty-five  days.  A  long 
list  of  bidders,  including  most  of  the  firms  engaged  in 
plains  freighting,  responded  with  their  bids  and 
itineraries;  from  them  the  department  selected  the 
offer  of  a  company  headed  by  one  John  Butterfield, 
and  explained  to  the  public  in  1857  the  reasons  for  its 
choice.  The  route  to  which  the  Butterfield  contract 
was  assigned  began  at  St.  Louis  and  Memphis,  made 
a  junction  near  the  western  border  of  Arkansas, 
and  proceeded  thence  through  Preston,  Texas,  El 
Paso,  and  Fort  Yuma.  For  semi-weekly  mails 
the  company  was  to  receive  $600,000  a  year.  The 
choice  of  the  most  southern  of  routes  required  con- 
siderable explanation,  since  the  best-known  road  ran 
by  the  Platte  and  South  Pass.L  In  criticising  this 
latter  route  the  Postmaster-general  pointed  out  the 
cold  and  snow  of  winter,  and  claimed  that  the  ex- 
perience of  the  department  during  seven  years  proved 
the  impossibility  of  maintaining  a  regular  service 
here.  A  second  available  road  had  been  revealed 
by  the  thirty-fifth  parallel  survey,  across  northern 
Texas  and  through  Albuquerque,  New  Mexico;  but 

N 


178  "  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

this  was  likewise  too  long  and  too  severe.  The  best 
route,  in  his  mind  —  the  one  open  all  the  year, 
through  a  temperate  climate,  suitable  for  migration 
as  well  as  traffic  —  was  this  southern  route,  via  El 
Paso.  It  is  well  to  remember  that  the  administra- 
tion which  made  this  choice  was  democratic  and  of 
strong  southern  sympathies,  and  that  the  Pacific 
railway  was  expected  to  follow  the  course  of  the 
overland  mail. 

The  first  overland  coaches  left  the  opposite  ends 
of  the  line  on  September  15,  1858.  The  east-bound 
stage  carried  an  agent  of  the  Post-office  Department, 
whose  report  states  that  the  through  trip  to  Tipton, 
Missouri,  and  thence  by  rail  to  St.  Louis,  was  made 
in  20  days,  18  hours,  26  minutes,  actual  time.  "I 
cordially  congratulate  you  upon  the  result,"  wired 
President  Buchanan  to  Butterfield.  "It  is  a  glo- 
rious triumph  for  civilization  and  the  Union.  Set- 
tlements will  soon  follow  the  course  of  the  road,  and 
the  East  and  West  will  be  bound  together  by  a  chain 
of  living  Americans  which  can  never  be  broken." 
The  route  was  2795  miles  long.  For  nearly  all  the 
way  there  was  no  settlement  upon  which  the  stages 
could  rely.  The  company  built  such  stations  as  it 
needed. 

The  vehicle  of  the  overland  mail,  the  most  inter- 
esting vehicle  of  the  plains,  was  the  coach  manufac- 
tured by  the  Abbott-Downing  Company  of  Concord, 
New  Hampshire.  No  better  wagon  for  the  purpose 
has  been  devised.  Its  heavy  wheels,  with  wide,  thick 


THE  OVERLAND  MAIL  179 

tires,  were  set  far  apart  to  prevent  capsizing.  Its 
body,  braced  with  iron  bands,  and  built  of  stout  white 
oak,  was  slung  on  leather  thoroughbraces  which  took 
the  strain  better  and  were  more  nearly  unbreakable 
than  any  other  springs.  Inside  were  generally  three 
seats,  for  three  passengers  each,  though  at  times 
as  many  as  fourteen  besides  the  driver  and  mes- 
senger were  carried.  Adjustable  curtains  kept  out 
part  of  the  rain  and  cold.  High  up  in  front  sat  the 
driver,  with  a  passenger  or  two  on  the  box  and  a  large 
assortment  of  packages  tucked  away  beneath  his 
seat.  Behind  the  body  was  the  triangular  "boot" 
in  which  were  stowed  the  passengers'  boxes  and  the 
mail  sacks.  The  overflow  of  mail  went  inside  under 
the  seats.  Mr.  Clemens  tells  of  filling  the  whole 
body  three  feet  deep  with  mail,  and  of  the  passengers 
being  forced  to  sprawl  out  on  the  irregular  bed  thus 
made  for  them.  Complaining  letter-writers  tell  of 
sacks  carried  between  the  axles  and  the  body,  under 
the  coach,  and  of  the  disasters  to  letters  and  contents 
resulting  from  fording  streams.  Drawn  by  four  gal- 
loping mules  and  painted  a  gaudy  red  or  green,  the 
coach  was  a  visible  emblem  of  spectacular  western 
advance.  Horace  Greeley's  coach,  bright  red,  was 
once  charged  by  a  herd  of  enraged  buffaloes  and 
overturned,  to  the  discomfort  and  injury  of  the  ven- 
erable editor. 

It  was  no  comfortable  or  luxurious  trip  that  the 
overland  passenger  had,  with  all  the  sumptuous 
equipment  of  the  new  route.  The  time  limit  was 


180  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

twenty-five  days,  reduced  in  practice  to  twenty-two 
or  twenty-three,  at  the  price  of  constant  travel  day 
and  night,  regardless  of  weather  or  convenience. 
One  passenger  who  declined  to  follow  this  route  has 
left  his  reason  why.  The  "  Southern,  known  as  the 
Butterfield  or  American  Express,  offered  to  start  me 
in  an  ambulance  from  St.  Louis,  and  to  pass  me 
through  Arkansas,  El  Paso,  Fort  Yuma  on  the  Gila 
River,  in  fact  through  the  vilest  and  most  desolate 
portion  of  the  West.  Twenty-four  mortal  days  and 
nights  —  twenty-five  being  schedule  time  —  must  be 
spent  in  that  ambulance;  passengers  becoming  crazy 
by  whiskey,  mixed  with  want  of  sleep,  are  often 
obliged  to  be  strapped  to  their  seats;  their  meals, 
despatched  during  the  ten-minute  halts,  are  simply 
abominable,  the  heats  are  excessive,  the  climate 
malarious;  lamps  may  not  be  used  at  night  for  fear  of 
non-existent  Indians:  briefly  there  is  no  end  to  this 
Via  Mala's  miseries."  But  the  alternative  which 
confronted  this  traveller  in  1860  was  scarcely  more 
pleasant.  "You  may  start  by  stage  to  the  gold  re- 
gions about  Denver  City  or  Pike's  Peak,  and  thence, 
if  not  accidentally  or  purposely  shot,  you  may  pro- 
ceed by  an  uncertain  ox  train  to  Great  Salt  Lake  City, 
which  latter  part  cannot  take  less  than  thirty-five 
days." 

Once  upon  the  road,  the  passenger  might  nearly  as 
well  have  been  at  sea.  There  was  no  turning  back. 
His  discomforts  and  dangers  became  inevitable. 
The  stations  erected  along  the  trail  were  chiefly 


THE  OVERLAND   MAIL  181 

for  the  benefit  of  the  live  stock.  Horses  and  mules 
must  be  kept  in  good  shape,  whatever  happened  to 
passengers.  Some  of  the  depots,  "home  stations," 
had  a  family  in  residence,  a  dwelling  of  logs,  adobe, 
or  sod,  and  offered  bacon,  potatoes,  bread,  and  coffee 
of  a  sort,  to  those  who  were  not  too  squeamish.  The 
others,  or  " swing"  stations,  had  little  but  a  corral 
and  a  haystack,  with  a  few  stock  tenders.  The 
drivers  were  often  drunk  and  commonly  profane. 
The  overseers  and  division  superintendents  differed 
from  them  only  in  being  a  little  more  resolute  and 
dangerous.  Freighting  and  coaching  were  not  child's 
play  for  either  passengers  or  employees. 

The  Butterfield  Overland  Express  began  to  work 
its  six  year  contract  in  September,  1858.  Other 
coach  and  mail  services  increased  the  number  of 
continental  routes  to  three  by  1860.  From  New 
Orleans,  by  way  of  San  Antonio  and  El  Paso,  a 
weekly  service  had  been  organized,  but  its  impor- 
tance was  far  less  than  that  of  the  great  route,  and 
not  equal  to  that  by  way  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake. 

Staging  over  the  Platte  trail  began  on  a  large  scale 
with  the  discovery  of  gold  near  Pike's  Peak  in  1858. 
The  Mormon  mails,  interrupted  by  the  Mormon 
War,  had  been  revived ;  but  a  new  concern  had  sprung 
up  under  the  name  of  the  Leavenworth  and  Pike's 
Peak  Express  Company.  The  firm  of  Jones  and 
Russell,  soon  to  give  way  to  Russell,  Majors,  and 
Waddell,  had  seen  the  possibilities  of  the  new  boom 
camps,  and  had  inaugurated  regular  stage  service  in 


182  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

May,  1859.  Henry  Villard  rode  out  in  the  first 
coach.  Horace  Greeley  followed  in  June.  After 
some  experimenting  in  routes,  the  line  accepted 
a  considerable  part  of  the  Platte  trail,  leaving  the 
road  at  the  forks  of  the  river.  Here  Julesburg 
came  into  existence  as  the  most  picturesque  home 
station  on  the  plains.  It  was  at  this  station  that 
Jack  Slade,  whom  Mark  Twain  found  to  be  a  mild, 
hospitable,  coffee-sharing  man,  cut  off  the  ears  of 
old  Jules,  after  the  latter  had  emptied  two  barrels  of 
bird-shot  into  him.  It  was  "celebrated  for  its  des- 
peradoes," wrote  General  Dodge.  "No  twenty-four 
hours  passed  without  its  contribution  to  Boots  Hill 
(the  cemetery  whose  every  occupant  was  buried  in 
his  boots),  and  homicide  was  performed  in  the  most 
genial  and  whole-souled  way." 

Before  the  Denver  coach  had  been  running  for  a 
year  another  enterprise  had  brought  the  central 
route  into  greater  prominence.  Butterfield  had  given 
California  news  in  less  than  twenty-five  days  from 
the  Missouri,  but  California  wanted  more  even  than 
this,  until  the  electric  telegraph  should  come.  Sena- 
tor Gwin  urged  upon  the  great  freight  concern  the 
starting  of  a  faster  service  for  light  mails  only.  It 
was  William  H.  Russell  who,  to  meet  this  supposed 
demand,  organized  a  pony  express,  which  he  an- 
nounced to  a  startled  public  in  the  end  of  March. 
Across  the  continent  from  Placerville  to  St.  Joseph 
he  built  his  stations  from  nine  to  fifteen  miles  apart, 
nearly  two  hundred  in  all.  He  supplied  these  with 


THE   OVERLAND   MAIL  183 

tenders  and  riders,  stocked  them  with  fodder  and 
fleet  American  horses,  and  started  his  first  riders  at 
both  ends  on  the  3d  of  April,  1860. 

Only  letters  of  great  commercial  importance  could 
be  carried  by  the  new  express.  They  were  written 
on  tissue  paper,  packed  into  a  small,  light  saddle- 
bag, and  passed  from  rider  to  rider  along  the  route. 
The  time  announced  in  the  schedule  was  ten  days,  — 
two  weeks  better  than  Butterfield's  best.  To  make 
it  called  for  constant  motion  at  top  speed,  with 
horses  trained  to  the  work  and  changed  every  few 
miles.  The  carriers  were  slight  men  of  135  pounds 
or  under,  whose  nerve  and  endurance  could  stand 
the  strain.  Often  mere  boys  were  employed  in  the 
dangerous  service.  Rain  or  snow  or  death  made 
no  difference  to  the  express.  Dangers  of  falling  at 
night,  of  missing  precipitous  mountain  roads  where 
advance  at  a  walk  was  perilous,  had  to  be  faced. 
When  Indians  were  hostile,  this  new  risk  had  to  be 
run.  But  for  eighteen  months  the  service  was  con- 
tinued as  announced.  It  ceased  only  when  the  over- 
land telegraph,  in  October,  1861,  declared  its  readi- 
ness to  handle  through  business. 

In  the  pony  express  was  the  spectacular  perfec- 
tion of  overland  service.  Its  best  record  was  some 
hours  under  eight  days.  It  was  conducted  along 
the  well-known  trail  from  St.  Joseph  to  Forts  Kear- 
ney, Laramie,  and  Bridger;  thence  to  Great  Salt 
Lake  City,  and  by  way  of  Carson  City  to  Placerville 
and  Sacramento.  It  carried  the  news  in  a  time  when 


184  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

every  day  brought  new  rumors  of  war  and  disunion, 
in  the  pregnant  campaign  of  1860  and  through  the 
opening  of  the  Civil  War.  The  records  of  its  riders 
at  times  approached  the  marvellous.  One  lad, 
William  F.  Cody,  who  has  since  lived  to  become  the 
personal  embodiment  of  the  Far  West  as  Buffalo 
Bill,  rode  more  than  320  consecutive  miles  on  a  single 
tour.  The  literature  of  the  plains  is  full  of  instances 
of  courage  and  endurance  shown  in  carrying  through 
the  despatches. 

The  Butterfield  mail  was  transferred  to  the  central 
route  of  the  pony  express  in  the  summer  of  1861. 
For  two  and  a  half  years  it  had  run  steadily  along 
its  southern  route,  proving  the  entire  practicability 
of  carrying  on  such  a  service.  But  its  expense  had 
been  out  of  all  proportion  to  its  revenue.  In  1859 
the  Postmaster-general  reported  that  its  total  re- 
ceipts from  mails  had  been  $27,229.94,  as  against  a 
cost  of  $600,000.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  the  fast 
service  would  have  been  dropped  had  not  the  new 
military  necessity  of  1861  forbidden  any  act  which 
might  loosen  the  bonds  between  the  Pacific  and  the 
Atlantic  states.  Congress  contemplated  the  ap- 
proach of  war  and  authorized  early  in  1861  the  aban- 
donment of  the  southern  route  through  the  con- 
federate territory,  and  the  transfer  of  the  service  to 
the  line  of  the  pony  express.  To  secure  additional 
safety  the  mails  were  sent  by  way  of  Davenport, 
Iowa,  and  Omaha,  to  Fort  Kearney  a  few  times,  but 
Atchison  became  the  starting-'point  at  last,  while 


THE  OVERLAND  MAIL  185 

military  force  was  used  to  keep  the  route  free  from 
interference.  The  transfer  worked  a  shortening  of 
from  five  to  seven  days  over  the  southern  route. 

In  the  autumn  of  1861,  when  the  overland  mail 
and  the  pony  express  were  both  running  at  top  speed 
along  the  Platte  trail,  the  overland  service  reached 
its  highest  point.  In  October  the  telegraph  brought 
an  end  to  the  express.  "The  Pacific  to  the  Atlantic 
sends  greeting, "  ran  the  first  message  over  the  new 
wire,  "  and  may  both  oceans  be  dry  before  a  foot  of  all 
the  land  that  lies  between  them  shall  belong  to  any 
other  than  one  united  country."  Probably  the  pony 
express  had  done  its  share  in  keeping  touch  between 
California  and  the  Union.  Certainly  only  its  na- 
tional purpose  justified  its  existence,  since  it  was  run 
at  a  loss  that  brought  ruin  to  Russell,  its  backer,  and 
to  Majors  and  Waddell,  his  partners. 

Russell,  Majors,  and  Waddell,  with  the  biggest 
freighting  business  of  the  plains,  had  gone  heavily 
into  passenger  and  express  service  in  1859-1860. 
Russell  had  forced  through  the  pony  express  against 
the  wishes  of  his  partners,  carried  away  from  prac- 
tical considerations  by  the  magnitude  of  the  idea. 
The  transfer  of  the  southern  overland  to  their  route 
increased  their  business  and  responsibility.  The 
future  of  the  route  steadily  looked  larger.  "  Every 
day,"  wrote  the  Postmaster-general,  " brings  in- 
telligence of  the  discovery  of  new  mines  of  gold  and 
silver  in  the  region  traversed  by  this  mail  route, 
which  gives  assurance  that  it  will  not  be  many  years 


186  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

before  it  will  be  protected  and  supported  throughout 
the  greater  part  of  the  route  by  a  civilized  popula- 
tion." Under  the  name  of  the  Central  Overland, 
California,  and  Pike's  Peak  Express  the  firm  tried  to 
keep  up  a  struggle  too  great  for  them.  "  Clean  out 
of  Cash  and  Poor  Pay"  is  said  to  have  been  an  irrev- 
erent nickname  coined  by  one  of  their  drivers.  As 
their  embarrassments  steadily  increased,  their  notes 
were  given  to  a  rival  contractor  who  was  already  be- 
ginning local  routes  to  reach  the  mining  camps  of 
eastern  Washington.  Ben  Holladay  had  been  the 
power  behind  the  company  for  several  months  before 
the  courts  gave  him  control  of  their  overland  stage 
line  in  1862.  The  greatest  names  in  this  overland 
business  are  first  Butterfield,  then  Russell,  Majors, 
and  Waddell,  and  then  Ben  Holladay,  whose  power 
lasted  until  he  sold  out  to  Wells,  Fargo,  and  Company 
in  1866.  Ben  Holladay  was  the  magnate  of  the 
plains  during  the  early  sixties.  A  hostile  critic, 
Henry  Villard,  has  written  that  he  was  "a  genuine 
specimen  of  the  successful  Western  pioneer  of  former 
days,  illiterate,  coarse,  pretentious,  boastful,  false,  and 
cunning."  In  later  days  he  carried  his  speculation 
into  railways  and  navigation,  but  already  his  was  the 
name  most  often  heard  in  the  West.  Mark  Twain, 
who  has  left  in  " Roughing  It"  the  best  picture  of 
life  in  the  Far  West  in  this  decade,  speaks  lightly  of 
him  when  he  tells  of  a  youth  travelling  in  the  Holy 
Land  with  a  reverend  preceptor  who  was  impressing 
upon  him  the  greatness  of  Moses,  "'the  great  guide, 


THE  OVERLAND   MAIL  187 

soldier,  poet,  lawgiver  of  ancient  Israel !  Jack, 
from  this  spot  where  we  stand,  to  Egypt,  stretches  a 
fearful  desert  three  hundred  miles  in  extent  —  and 
across  that  desert  that  wonderful  man  brought  the 
children  of  Israel!  —  guiding  them  with  unfailing 
sagacity  for  forty  years  over  the  sandy  desolation 
and  among  the  obstructing  rocks  and  hills,  and 
landed  them  at  last,  safe  and  sound,  within  sight  of 
this  very  spot.  It  was  a  wonderful,  wonderful  thing 
to  do,  Jack.  Think  of  it ! ' 

"' Forty  years?     Only  three  hundred    miles ?" 
replied  Jack.  "  'Humph !   Ben  Holladay  would  have 
fetched  them  through  in  thirty-six  hours !" 

Under  Holladay's  control  the  passenger  and  ex- 
press service  were  developed  into  what  was  probably 
the  greatest  one-man  institution  in  America.  He 
directed  not  only  the  central  overland,  but  spur  lines 
with  government  contracts  to  upper  California, 
Oregon,  Idaho,  and  Montana.  He  travelled  up  and 
down  the  line  constantly  himself,  attending  in  person 
to  business  in  Washington  and  on  the  Pacific.  The 
greatest  difficulties  in  his  service  were  the  Indians 
and  progress  as  stated  in  the  railway.  Man  and 
nature  could  be  fought  off  and  overcome,  but  the  life 
of  the  stage-coach  was  limited  before  it  was  begun. 

The  Indian  danger  along  the  trails  had  steadily 
increased  since  the  commencement  of  the  migrations. 
For  many  years  it  had  not  been  large,  since  there 
was  room  for  all  and  the  emigrants  held  well  to  the 
beaten  track.  But  the  gold  camps  had  introduced 


188  THE   LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

settlers  into  new  sections,  and  had  sent  prospectors 
into  all  the  Iridian  Country.  The  opening  of  new 
roads  to  the  Pacific  increased  the  pressure,  until  the 
Indians  began  to  believe  that  the  end  was  at  hand 
unless  they  should  bestir  themselves.  The  last  years 
of  the  overland  service,  between  1862  and  1868, 
were  hence  filled  with  Indian  attacks.  Often  for 
weeks  no  coach  could  go  through.  Once,  by  pre- 
meditation, every  station  for  nearly  two  hundred 
miles  was  destroyed  overnight,  Julesburg,  the  great- 
est of  them  all,  being  in  the  list.  The  presence  of 
troops  to  defend  seemed  only  to  increase  the  zeal  of 
the  red  men  to  destroy. 

Besides  these  losses,  which  lessened  his  profits  and 
threatened  ruin,  Holladay  had  to  meet  competition 
in  his  own  trade,  and  detraction  as  well.  Captain 
James  L.  Fiske,  who  had  broken  a  new  road  through 
from  Minnesota  to  Montana,  came  east  in  1863,  "by 
the  '  overland  stage/  travelling  over  the  saline  plains 
of  Laramie  and  Colorado  Territory  and  the  sand 
deserts  of  Nebraska  and  Kansas.  The  country  was 
strewed  with  the  skeletons  and  carcases  of  cattle, 
and  the  graves  of  the  early  Mormon  and  California 
pilgrims  lined  the  roadside.  This  is  the  worst  emi- 
grant route  that  I  have  ever  travelled;  much  of  the 
road  is  through  deep  sand,  feed  is  very  scanty,  a 
great  deal  of  the  water  is  alkaline,  and  the  snows  in 
winter  render  it  impassable  for  trains.  The  stage 
line  is  wretchedly  managed.  The  company  under- 
take to  furnish  travellers  with  meals,  (at  a  dollar  a 


THE  OVERLAND  MAIL  189 

meal,)  but  very  frequently  on  arriving  at  a  station 
there  was  nothing  to  eat,  the  supplies  had  not  been 
sent  on.  On  one  occasion  we  fasted  for  thirty-six 
hours.  The  stages  were  sometimes  in  a  miserable 
condition.  We  were  put  into  a  coach  one  night  with 
only  two  boards  left  in  the  bottom.  On  remonstrat- 
ing with  the  driver,  we  were  told  to  hold  on  by  the 
sides." 

At  the  close  of  the  Civil  War,  however,  Holladay 
controlled  a  monopoly  in  stage  service  between  the 
Missouri  River  and  Great  Salt  Lake.  The  express 
companies  and  railways  met  him  at  the  ends  of  his 
link,  but  had  to  accept  his  terms  for  intermediate 
traffic.  In  the  summer  of  1865  a  competing  firm 
started  a  Butterfield's  Overland  Despatch  to  run  on 
the  Smoky  Hill  route  to  Denver.  It  soon  found  that 
Indian  dangers  here  were  greater  than  along  the 
Platte,  and  it  learned  how  near  it  was  to  bankruptcy 
when  Holladay  offered  to  buy  it  out  in  1866.  He  had 
sent  his  agents  over  the  rival  line,  and  had  in  his  hand 
a  more  detailed  statement  of  resources  and  con- 
ditions than  the  Overland  Despatch  itself  possessed. 
He  purchased  easily  at  his  own  price  and  so  ended 
this  danger  of  competition. 

Such  was  the  character  of  the  overland  traffic  that 
any  day  might  bring  a  successful  rival,  or  loss  by 
accident.  Holladay  seems  to  have  realized  that  the 
advantages  secured  by  priority  were  over,  and  that 
the  trade  had  seen  its  best  day.  In  the  end  of  1866 
he  sold  out  his  lines  to  the  greatest  of  his  competitors, 


190  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Wells,  Fargo,  and  Company.  He  sold  out  wisely. 
The  new  concern  lost  on  its  purchase  through  the 
rapid  shortening  of  the  route.  During  1866  the 
Pacific  railway  had  advanced  so  far  that  the  end  of 
the  mail  route  was  moved  to  Fort  Kearney  in  No- 
vember. By  May,  1869,  some  years  earlier  than 
Wells,  Fargo  had  estimated,  the  road  was  done.  And 
on  the  completion  of  the  Union  and  Central  Pacific 
railways  the  great  period  of  the  overland  mail  was 
ended. 

Parallel  to  the  overland  mail  rolled  an  overland 
freight  that  lacked  the  seeming  romance  of  the 
former,  but  possessed  quite  as  much  of  real  signifi- 
cance. No  one  has  numbered  the  trains  of  wagons 
that  supplied  the  Far  West.  Santa  Fe  wagons  they 
were  now;  Pennsylvania  or  Pittsburg  wagons  they 
had  been  called  in  the  early  days  of  the  Santa  Fe 
trade;  Conestoga  wagons  they  had  been  in  the 
remoter  time  of  the  trans-Alleghany  migrations. 
But  whatever  their  name,  they  retained  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  wagons  and  caravans  of  the  earlier 
period.  Holladay  bought  over  150  such  wagons, 
organized  in  trains  of  twenty-six,  from  the  Butter- 
field  Overland  Despatch  in  1866.  Six  thousand 
were  counted  passing  Fort  Kearney  in  six  weeks  in 
1865.  One  of  the  drivers  on  the  overland  mail, 
Frank  Root,  relates  that  Russell,  Majors,  and  Wad- 
dell  owned  6250  wagons  and  75,000  oxen  at  the  height 
of  their  business.  The  long  trains,  crawling  along 
half  hidden  in  their  clouds  of  dust,  with  the  noises 


THE  OVERLAND   MAIL  191 

of  the  animals  and  the  profanity  of  the  drivers,  were 
the  physical  bond  between  the  sections.  The  mail 
and  express  served  politics  and  intellect;  the  freight- 
ers provided  the  comforts  and  decencies  of  life. 

The  overland  traffic  had  begun  on  the  heels  of  the 
first  migrations.  Its  growth  during  the  fifties  and 
its  triumphant  period  in  the  sixties  were  great  ar- 
guments in  favor  of  the  construction  of  railways  to 
take  its  place.  It  came  to  an  end  when  the  first 
continental  railroad  was  completed  in  1869.  For 
decades  after  this  time  the  stages  still  found  useful 
service  on  branch  lines  and  to  new  camps,  and  occa- 
sional exhibition  in  the  "Wild  West  Shows,"  but  the 
railways  were  following  them  closely,  for  a  new  period 
of  American  history  had  begun. 


CHAPTER  XII 
THE  ENGINEERS'  FRONTIER 

IN  a  national  way,  the  South  struggling  against 
the  North  prevented  the  early  location  of  a  Pacific 
railway.  Locally,  every  village  on  the  Mississippi 
from  the  Lakes  to  the  Gulf  hoped  to  become  the  ter- 
minus and  had  advocates  throughout  its  section  of 
the  country.  The  list  of  claimants  is  a  catalogue 
of  Mississippi  Valley  towns.  New  Orleans,  Vicks- 
burg,  Memphis,  Cairo,  St.  Louis,  Chicago,  and 
Duluth  were  all  entered  in  the  competition.  By 
1860  the  idea  had  received  general  acceptance;  no 
one  in  the  future  need  urge  its  adoption,  but  the 
greatest  part  of  the  work  remained  to  be  done. 

Born  during  the  thirties,  the  idea  of  a  Pacific  rail- 
way was  of  uncertain  origin  and  parentage.  Just 
so  soon  as  there  was  a  railroad  anywhere,  it  was 
inevitable  that  some  enterprising  visionary  should 
project  one  in  imagination  to  the.  extremity  of  the 
continent.  The  railway  speculation,  with  which  the 
East  was  seething  during  the  administrations  of 
Andrew  Jackson,  was  boiling  over  in  the  young  West, 
so  that  the  group  of  men  advocating  a  railway  to 
connect  the  oceans  were  but  the  product  of  their 
time. 

192 


THE  ENGINEERS'   FRONTIER  193 

Greatest  among  these  enthusiasts  was  Asa  Whit- 
ney, a  New  York  merchant  interested  in  the  China 
trade  and  eager  to  win  the  commerce  of  the  Orient 
for  the  United  States.  Others  had  declared  such  a 
road  to  be  possible  before  he  presented  his  memorial 
to  Congress  in  1845,  but  none  had  staked  so  much 
upon  the  idea.  He  abandoned  the  business,  con- 
ducted a  private  survey  in  Wisconsin  and  Iowa,  and 
was  at  last  convinced  that  "the  time  is  not  far  dis- 
tant when  Oregon  will  become  ...  a  separate 
nation"  unless  communication  should  "  unite  them 
to  us."  He  petitioned  Congress  in  January,  1845, 
for  a  franchise  and  a  grant  of  land,  that  the  national 
road  might  be  accomplished;  and  for  many  years  he 
agitated  persistently  for  his  project. 

The  annexation  of  Oregon  and  the  Southwest, 
coming  in  the  years  immediately  after  the  commence- 
ment of  Whitney's  advocacy,  gave  new  point  to 
arguments  for  the  railway  and  introduced  the  sec- 
tional element.  So  long  as  Oregon  constituted  the 
whole  American  frontage  on  the  Pacific  it  was  idle 
to  debate  railway  routes  south  of  South  Pass.  This 
was  the  only  known,  practicable  route,  and  it  was 
the  course  recommended  by  all  the  projectors,  down 
to  Whitney.  But  with  California  won,  the  other 
trails  by  El  Paso  and  Santa  Fe  came  into  considera- 
tion and  at  once  tempted  the  South  to  make  the 
railway  tributary  to  its  own  interests. 

Chief  among  the  politicians  who  fell  in  with  the 
growing  railway  movement  was  Senator  Benton,  who 


194  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

tried  to  place  himself  at  its  head.  "The  man  is 
alive,  full  grown,  and  is  listening  to  what  I  say 
(without  believing  it  perhaps) /'-he  declared  in  Oc- 
tober, 1844, "  who  will  yet  see  the  Asiatic  commerce 
traversing  the  North  Pacific  Ocean  —  entering  the 
Oregon  River  —  climbing  the  western  slopes  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains  —  issuing  from  its  gorges  —  and 
spreading  its  fertilizing  streams  over  our  wide-ex- 
tended Union !"  After  this  date  there  was  no  subject 
closer  to  his  interest  than  the  railway,  and  his  advo- 
cacy was  constant.  His  last  word  in  the  Senate  was 
concerning  it.  In  1849  he  carried  off  its  feet  the 
St.  Louis  railroad  convention  with  his  eloquent 
appeal  for  a  central  route:  "Let  us  make  the  iron 
road,  and  make  it  from  sea  to  sea  —  States  and 
individuals  making  it  east  of  the  Mississippi,  the 
nation  making  it  west.  Let  us  ...  rise  above 
everything  sectional,  personal,  local.  Let  us  ... 
build  the  great  road  .  .  .  which  shall  be  adorned 
with  .  .  .  the  colossal  statue  of  the  great  Colum- 
bus —  whose  design  it  accomplishes,  hewn  from  a 
granite  mass  of  a  peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
overlooking  the  road  .  .  .  pointing  with  outstretched 
arm  to  the  western  horizon  and  saying  to  the  flying 
passengers,  'There  is  the  East,  there  is  India." 

By  1850  it  was  common  knowledge  that  a  railroad 
could  be  built  along  the  Platte  route,  and  it  was 
believed  that  the  mountains  could  be  penetrated  in 
several  other  places,  but  the  process  of  surveying  with 
reference  to  a  particular  railway  had  not  yet  been 


THE   ENGINEERS'   FRONTIER  195 

begun.  It  is  possible  and  perhaps  instructive  to  make 
a  rough  grouping,  in  two  classes  divided  by  the  year 
1842,  of  the  explorations  before  1853.  So  late  as 
Fremont's  day  it  was  not  generally  known  whether  a 
great  river  entered  the  Pacific  between  the  Columbia 
and  the  Colorado.  Prior  to  1842  the  explorations 
are  to  be  regarded  as  " incidents"  and  "adventures" 
in  more  or  less  unknown  countries.  The  narratives 
were  popular  rather  than  scientific,  representing  the 
experiences  of  parties  surveying  boundary  lines  or 
locating  wagon  roads,  of  troops  marching  to  remote 
posts  or  chastising  Indians,  of  missionaries  and  casual 
explorers.  In  the  aggregate  they  had  contributed 
a  large  mass  of  detailed  but  unorganized  information 
concerning  the  country  where  the  continental  rail- 
way must  run.  But  Lieutenant  Fremont,  in  1842, 
commenced  the  effort  by  the  United  States  to  acquire 
accurate  and  comprehensive  knowledge  of  the  West. 
In  1842,  1843,  and  1845  Fremont  conducted  the  three 
Rocky  Mountain  expeditions  which  established  him 
for  life  as  a  popular  hero.  The  map,  drawn  by 
Charles  Preuss  for  his  second  expedition,  confined 
itself  in  strict  scientific  fashion  to  the  facts  actually 
observed,  and  in  skill  of  execution  was  perhaps  the 
best  map  made  before  1853.  The  individual  expe- 
ditions which  in  the  later  forties  filled  in  the  details 
of  portions  of  the  Fremont  map  are  too  numerous 
for  mention.  At  least  twenty-five  occurred  before 
1853,  all  serving  to  extend  both  general  and  particu- 
lar knowledge  of  the  West.  To  these  was  added  a 


196  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

great  mass  of  popular  books,  prepared  by  emigrants 
and  travellers.  By  .1&§3  there  was  good,  unscientific 
knowledge  of  nearly  all  the  West,  and  accurate 
information  concerning  some  portions  of  it.  The 
railroad  enthusiasts  could  tell  the  general  direction 
in  which  the  roads  must  run,  but  no  road  could  well 
be  located  without  a  more  comprehensive  survey 
than  had  yet  been  made. 

The  agitation  of  the  Pacific  railway  idea  was 
founded  almost  exclusively  upon  general  and  in- 
accurate knowledge  of  the  West.  The  exact  location 
of  the  line  was  naturally  left  for  the  professional 
civil  engineer,  its  popular  advocate  contented  him- 
self with  general  principles.  Frequently  these  were 
sufficient,  yet,  as  in  the  case  of  Benton,  misinforma- 
tion led  to  the  waste  of  strength  upon  routes  un- 
questionably bad.  But  there  was  slight  danger  of 
the  United  States  being  led  into  an  unwise  route, 
since  in  the  diversity  of  routes  suggested  there  was 
deadlock.  Until  after  1850,  in  proportion  as  the  idea 
was  received  with  unanimity,  the  routes  were  fought 
with  increasing  bitterness.  Whitney  was  shelved 
in  1852  when  the  choice  of  routes  had  become  more 
important  than  the  method  of  construction. 

In  1852-1853  Congress  worked  upon  one  of  the 
many  bills  to  construct  the  much-desired  railway  to 
the  Pacific.  It  was  discovered  that  an  absolute 
majority  in  favor  of  the  work  existed,  but  the  enemies 
of  the  measure,  virulent  in  proportion  as  they  were 
in  the  minority,  were  able  to  sow  well-fertilized 


THE  ENGINEERS'   FRONTIER  197 

dissent.  They  admitted  and  gloried  in  the  intrigue 
which  enabled  them  to  command  through  the  time- 
honored  method  of  division.  They  defeated  the  road 
in  this  Congress.  But  when  the  army  appropria- 
tion bill  came  along  in  February,  1853,  Senator 
Gwin  asked  for  an  amendment  for  a  survey.  He 
doubted  the  wisdom  of  a  survey,  since,  "if  any  route 
is  reported  to  this  body  as  the  best,  those  that  may 
be  rejected  will  always  go  against  the  one  selected." 
But  he  admitted  himself  to  be  as  a  drowning  man 
who  "will  catch  at  straws,"  and  begged  that  $150,000 
be  allowed  to  the  President  for  a  survey  of  the  best 
routes  from  the  Mississippi  to  the  Pacific,  the  survey 
to  be  conducted  by  the  Corps  of  Topographical  En- 
gineers of  the  regular  army.  To  a  non-committal 
measure  like  this  the  opposition  could  make  slight 
resistance.  The  Senate,  by  a  vote  of  31  to  16,  added 
this  amendment  to  the  army  appropriation  bill, 
while  the  House  concurred  in  nearly  the  same  pro- 
portion. The  first  positive  official  act  towards  the 
construction  of  the  road  was  here  taken. 

Under  the  orders  of  Jefferson  Davis,  Secretary  of 
War,  well-organized  exploring  parties  took  to  the 
field  in  the  spring  of  1853.  Farthest  north,  Isaac 
I.  Stevens,  bound  for  his  post  as  first  governor  of 
Washington  territory,  conducted  a  line  of  survey  to 
the  Pacific  between  the  parallels  of  47°  and  49°, 
north  latitude.  South  of  the  Stevens  survey,  four 
other  lines  were  worked  out.  Near  the  parallels  of 
41°  and  42°,  the  old  South  Pass  route  was  again 


198  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

examined.  Fremont's  favorite  line,  between  38° 
and  39°,  received  consideration.  A  thirty-fifth  paral- 
lel route  was  examined  in  great  detail,  while  on  this 
and  another  along  the  thirty-second  parallel  the 
most  friendly  attentions  of  the  War  Department 
were  lavished.  The  second  and  third  routes  had 
few  important  friends.  Governor  Stevens,  because 
he  was  a  first-rate  fighter,  secured  full  space  for  the 
survey  in  his  charge.  But  the  thirty-second  and 
thirty-fifth  parallel  routes  were  those  which  were 
expected  to  make  good. 

Governor  Stevens  left  Washington  on  May  9, 
1853,  for  St.  Louis,  where  he  made  arrangements  with 
the  American  Fur  Company  to  transport  a  large  part 
of  his  supplies  by  river  to  Fort  Union.  From  St. 
Louis  he  ascended  the  Mississippi  by  steamer  to 
St.  Paul,  near  which  city  Camp  Pierce,  his  first 
organized  camp,  had  been  established.  Here  he 
issued  his  instructions  and  worked  into  shape  his 
party,  —  to  say  nothing  of  his  172  half-broken  mules. 
"Not  a  single  full  team  of  broken  animals  could  be 
selected,  and  well  broken  riding  animals  were  essen- 
tial, for  most  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  scientific  corps 
were  unaccustomed  to  riding. "  One  of  the  engineers 
dislocated  a  shoulder  before  he  conquered  his  steed. 

The  party  assigned  to  Governor  Stevens's  command 
was  recruited  with  reference  to  the  varied  demands 
of  a  general  exploring  and  scientific  reconnaissance. 
Besides  enlisted  men  and  laborers,  it  included  engi- 
neers, a  topographer,  an  artist,  a  surgeon  and  natu- 


THE  ENGINEERS'   FRONTIER  199 

ralist,  an  astronomer,  a  meteorologist,  and  a  geologist. 
Its  two  large  volumes  of  report  include  elaborate 
illustrations  and  appendices  on  botany  and  seven 
different  varieties  of  zoology  in  addition  to  the  geo- 
graphical details  required  for  the  railway. 

The  expedition,  in  its  various  branches,  attacked 
the  northernmost  route  simultaneously  in  several 
places.  Governor  Stevens  led  the  eastern  division 
from  St.  Paul.  A  small  body  of  his  men,  with  much 
of  the  supplies,  were  sent  up  the  Missouri  in  the 
American  Fur  Company's  boat  to  Fort  Union,  there 
to  make  local  observations  and  await  the  arrival  of 
the  governor.  United  there  the  party  continued 
overland  to  Fort  Benton  and  the  mountains.  Six 
years  later  than  this  it  would  have  been  possible  to 
ascend  by  boat  all  the  way  to  Fort  Benton,  but  as 
yet  no  steamer  had  gone  much  above  Fort  Union. 
From  the  Pacific  end  the  second  main  division  oper- 
ated. Governor  Stevens  secured  the  recall  of  Cap- 
tain George  B.  McClellan  from  duty  in  Texas,  and 
his  detail  in  command  of  a  corps  which  was  to  pro- 
ceed to  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  River  and  start 
an  eastward  survey.  In  advance  of  McClellan, 
Lieutenant  Saxton  was  to  hurry  on  to  erect  a 
supply  depot  in  the  Bitter  Root  Valley,  and  then 
to  cross  the  divide  and  make  a  junction  with  the 
main  party. 

From  Governor  Stevens's  reports  it  would  seem 
that  his  survey  was  a  triumphal  progress.  To  his 
threefold  capacities  as  commander,  governor,  and 


200  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Indian  superintendent,  nature  had  added  a  magni- 
fying eye  and  an  unrestrained  enthusiasm.  No 
formal  expedition  had  traversed  his  route  since  the 
day  of  Lewis  and  Clark.  The  Indians  could  still  be 
impressed  by  the  physical  appearance  of  the  whites. 
His  vanity  led  him  at  each  success  or  escape  from 
accident  to  congratulate  himself  on  the  antecedent 
wisdom  which  had  warded  off  the  danger.  But 
withal,  his  report  was  thorough  and  his  party  was 
loyal.  The  voyageurs  whom  he  had  engaged  received 
his  special  praise.  "They  are  thorough  woodsmen 
and  just  the  men  for  prairie  life  also,  going  into  the 
water  as  pleasantly  as  a  spaniel,  and  remaining 
there  as  long  as  needed. " 

Across  the  undulating  fertile  plains  the  party 
advanced  from  St.  Paul  with  little  difficulty.  Its 
draught  animals  steadily  improved  in  health  and 
strength.  The  Indians  were  friendly  and  honest. 
"My  father,"  said  Old  Crane  of  the  Assiniboin, 
"our  hearts  are  good;  we  are  poor  and  have  not 
much.  .  .  .  Our  good  father  has  told  us  about  this 
road.  I  do  not  see  how  it  will  benefit  us,  and  I  fear 
my  people  will  be  driven  from  these  plains  before 
the  white  men."  In  fifty-five  days  Fort  Union  was 
reached.  Here  the  American  Fur  Company  main- 
tained an  extensive  post  in  a  stockade  250  feet  square, 
and  carried  on  a  large  trade  with  "the  Assiniboines, 
the  Gros  Ventres,  the  Crows,  and  other  migratory 
bands  of  Indians."  At  Fort  Union,  Alexander 
Culbertson,  the  agent,  became  the  guide  of  the 


THE  ENGINEERS'   FRONTIER  201 

party,  which  proceeded  west  on  August  10.  From 
Fort  Union  it  was  nearly  400  miles  to  Fort  Benton, 
which  then  stood  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Missouri, 
some  eighteen  miles  below  the  falls.  The  country, 
though  less  friendly  than  that  east  of  the  Missouri, 
offered  little  difficulty  to  the  party,  which  covered  the 
distance  in  three  weeks.  A  week  later,  September  8, 
a  party  sent  on  from  Fort  Benton  met  Lieutenant 
Saxton  coming  east. 

The  chief  problems  of  the  Stevens  survey  lay  west 
of  Fort  Benton,  in  the  passes  of  the  continental  di- 
vide. Lieutenant  Saxton  had  left  Vancouver  early 
in  July,  crossed  the  Cascades  with  difficulty,  and 
started  up  the  Columbia  from  the  Dalles  on  July  18. 
He  reached  Fort  Walla  Walla  on  the  27th,  and  pro- 
ceeded thence  with  a  half-breed  guide  through  the 
country  of  the  Spokan  and  the  Cceur  d'Alene. 
Crossing  the  Snake,  he  broke  his  only  mercurial 
barometer  and  was  forced  thereafter  to  rely  on  his 
aneroid.  Deviating  to  the  north,  he  crossed  Lake 
Pend  d'Oreille  on  August  10,  and  reached  St.  Mary's 
village,  in  the  Bitter  Root  Valley,  on  August  28.  St. 
Mary's  village,  among  the  Flatheads,  had  been  es- 
tablished by  the  Jesuit  fathers,  and  had  advanced 
considerably,  as  Indian  civilization  went.  Here 
Saxton  erected  his  supply  depot,  from  which  he  ad- 
vanced with  a  smaller  escort  to  join  the  main  party. 
Always,  even  in  the  heart  of  the  mountains,  the  coun- 
try exceeded  his  expectations.  "  Nature  seemed  to 
have  intended  it  for  the  great  highway  across  the 


202  THE   LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

continent,  and  it  appeared  to  offer  but  little  obstruc- 
tion to  the  passage  of  a  railroad. " 

Acting  on  Saxton's  advice,  Governor  Stevens  re- 
duced his  party  at  Fort  Benton,  stored  much  of  his 
government  property  there,  and  started  west  with  a 
pack  train,  for  the  sake  of  greater  speed.  He  moved 
on  September  22,  anxious  lest  snow  should  catch 
him  in  the  mountains.  At  Fort  Benton  he  left  a 
detachment  to  make  meteorological  observations 
during  the  winter.  Among  the  Flatheads  he  left 
another  under  Lieutenant  Mullan.  On  October  7 
he  hurried  on  again  from  the  Bitter  Root  Valley  for 
Walla  Walla.  On  the  19th  he  met  McClellan's 
party,  which  had  been  spending  a  difficult  season  in 
the  passes  of  the  Cascade  range.  Because  of  over- 
cautious advice  which  McClellan  here  gave  him, 
and  since  his  animals  were  tired  out  with  the  sum- 
mer's hardships,  he  practically  ended  his  survey  for 
1853  at  this  point.  He  pushed  on  down  the  Colum- 
bia to  Olympia  and  his  new  territory. 

The  energy  of  Governor  Stevens  enabled  him  to 
make  one  of  the  first  of  the  Pacific  railway  reports. 
His  was  the  only  survey  from  the  Mississippi  to  the 
ocean  under  a  single  commander.  Dated  June  30, 
1854,  it  occupies  651  pages  of  Volume  I  of  the  com- 
piled reports.  In  1859  he  submitted  his  "  narrative 
and  final  report"  which  the  Senate  ordered  Secretary 
of  War,  John  B.  Floyd,  to  communicate  to  it  in  Febru- 
ary of  that  year.  This  document  is  printed  as  sup- 
plement to  Volume  I,  but  really  consists  of  two  large 


THE  ENGINEERS'   FRONTIER  203 

volumes  which  are  commonly  bound  together  as 
Volume  XII  of  the  series.  Like  the  other  volumes 
of  the  reports,  his  are  filled  with  lithographs  and  en- 
gravings of  fauna,  flora,  and  topography. 

The  forty-second  parallel  route  was  surveyed  by 
Lieutenant  E.  G.  Beckwith,  of  the  third  artillery,  in 
the  summer  of  1854.  East  of  Fort  Bridger,  the  War 
Department  felt  it  unnecessary  to  make  a  special 
survey,  since  Fremont  had  traversed  and  described 
the  country  several  times  and  Stansbury  had  sur- 
veyed it  carefully  as  recently  as  1849-1850.  At 
the  beginning  of  his  campaign  Beckwith  was  at  Salt 
Lake.  During  April  he  visited  the  Green  River 
Valley  and  Fort  Bridger,  proving  by  his  surveys  the 
entire  practicability  of  railway  construction  here. 
In  May  he  skirted  the  south  end  of  Great  Salt  Lake 
and  passed  along  the  Humboldt  to  the  Sacramento 
Valley.  He  had  no  important  adventures  and  was 
impressed  most  by  the  squalor  of  the  digger  Indians, 
whose  grass-covered,  beehive-shaped  "wick-ey-ups" 
were  frequently  seen.  As  his  band  approached  the 
Indians  would  fearfully  cache  their  belongings  in 
the  undergrowth.  In  the  morning  "it  was  indeed 
a  novel  and  ludicrous  sight  of  wretchedness  to  see 
them  approach  their  bush  and  attempt,  slyly  (for 
they  still  tried  to  conceal  from  me  what  they  were 
about),  to  repossess  themselves  of  their  treasures, 
one  bringing  out  a  piece  of  old  buckskin,  a  couple  of 
feet  square,  smoked,  greasy,  and  torn;  another  a 
half  dozen  rabbit-skins  in  an  equally  filthy  condi- 


204  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

tion,  sewed  together,  which  he  would  swing  over  his 
shoulders  by  a  string  —  his  only  blanket  or  clothing; 
while  a  third  brought  out  a  blue  string,  which  he 
girded  about  him  and  walked  away  in  full  dress  - 
one  of  the  lords  of  the  soil."  It  needed  no  special 
emphasis  in  Beckwith's  report  to  prove  that  a  rail- 
way could  follow  this  middle  route,  since  thousands 
of  emigrants  had  a  personal  knowledge  of  its  condi- 
tions. 

Beckwith,  who  started  his  forty-second  parallel 
survey  from  Salt  Lake  City,  had  reached  that  point 
as  one  of  the  officers  in  Gunnison's  unfortunate 
party.  Captain  J.  W.  Gunnison  had  followed 
Governor  Stevens  into  St.  Louis  in  1853.  His  field 
of  exploration,  the  route  of  38°-39°,  was  by  no  means 
new  to  him  since  he  had  been  to  Utah  with  Stansbury 
in  1849  and  1850,  and  had  already  written  one  of 
the  best  books  upon  the  Mormon  settlement.  He 
carried  his  party  up  the  Missouri  to  a  fitting-out 
camp  just  below  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas  River, 
five  miles  from  Westport.  Like  other  commanders 
he  spent  much  time  at  the  start  in  "  breaking  in  wild 
mules,"  with  which  he  advanced  in  rain  and  mud 
on  June  23.  For  more  than  two  weeks  his  party 
moved  in  parallel  columns  along  the  Santa  Fe  road 
and  the  Smoky  Hill  fork  of  the  Kansas.  Near 
Walnut  creek  on  the  Santa  Fe  road  they  united,  and 
soon  were  following  the  Arkansas  River  towards  the 
mountains.  At  Fort  Atkinson  they  found  a  horde 
of  the  plains  Indians  waiting  for  Major  Fitzpatrick 


I 


fe 

CQ      >> 

I! 


THE  ENGINEERS'  FRONTIER        205 

to  make  a  treaty  with  them.  Always  their  observa- 
tions were  taken  with  regularity.  One  day  Captain 
Gunnison  spent  in  vain  efforts  to  secure  specimens 
of  the  elusive  prairie  dog.  On  August  1,  when  they 
were  ready  to  leave  the  Arkansas  and  plunge  south- 
west into  the  Sangre  de  Cristo  range,  they  were 
gratified  "by  a  clear  and  beautiful  view  of  the  Span- 
ish Peaks." 

This  thirty-ninth  parallel  route,  which  had  been  a 
favorite  with  Fremont,  crossed  the  divide  near  the 
head  of  the  Rio  Grande.  Its  grades,  which  were 
difficult  and  steep  at  best,  followed  the  Huerfano 
Valley  and  Cochetopa  Pass.  Across  the  pass, 
Gunnison  began  his  descent  of  the  arid  alkali  valley 
of  the  Uncompahgre,  —  a  valley  to-day  about  to 
blossom  as  the  rose  because  of  the  irrigation  canal 
and  tunnel  bringing  to  it  the  waters  of  the  neighbor- 
ing Gunnison  River.  With  heavy  labor,  intense  heat, 
and  weakening  teams,  Gunnison  struggled  on  through 
September  and  October  towards  Salt  Lake  in  Utah 
territory.  Near  Sevier  Lake  he  lost  his  life.  Before 
daybreak,  on  October  26,  he  and  a  small  detachment 
of  men  were  surprised  by  a  band  of  young  Paiute. 
When  the  rest  of  his  party  hurried  up  to  the 
rescue,  they  found  his  body  "  pierced  with  fifteen 
arrows,"  and  seven  of  his  men  lying  dead  around 
him.  Beckwith,  who  succeeded  to  the  command, 
led  the  remainder  of  the  party  to  Salt  Lake  City, 
where  public  opinion  was  ready  to  charge  the  Mor- 
mons with  the  murder.  Beckwith  believed  this  to  be 


206  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

entirely  false,  and  made  use  of  the  friendly  assistance 
of  Brigham  Young,  who  persuaded  the  chiefs  of  the 
tribe  to  return  the  instruments  and  records  which 
had  been  stolen  from  the  party. 

The  route  surveyed  by  Captain  Gunnison  passed 
around  the  northern  end  of  the  ravine  of  the  Colorado 
River,  which  almost  completely  separates  the  South- 
west from  the  United  States.  Farther  south,  within 
the  United  States,  were  only  two  available  points 
at  which  railways  could  cross  the  canon,  at  Fort 
Yuma  and  near  the  Mojave  River.  Towards  these 
crossings  the  thirty-fifth  and  thirty-second  parallel 
surveys  were  directed. 

Second  only  to  Governor  Stevens's  in  its  extent 
was  the  exploration  conducted  by  Lieutenant  A.  W. 
Whipple  from  Fort  Smith  on  the  Arkansas  to  Los 
Angeles  along  the  thirty-fifth  parallel.  Like  that 
of  Governor  Stevens  this  route  was  not  the  channel 
of  any  regular  traffic,  although  later  it  was  to  have 
some  share  in  the  organized  overland  commerce. 
Here  also  was  found  a  line  that  contained  only  two 
or  three  serious  obstacles  to  be  overcome.  Whipple's 
instructions  planned  for  him  to  begin  his  observa- 
tions at  the  Mississippi,  but  he  believed  that  the 
navigable  Arkansas  River  and  the  railways  already 
projected  in  that  state  made  it  needless  to  commence 
farther  east  than  Fort  Smith,  on  the  edge  of  the 
Indian  Country.  He  began  his  survey  on  July 
14,  1853.  His  westward  march  was  for  two  months 
up  the  right  bank  of  the  Canadian  River,  as  it  trav- 


THE  ENGINEERS'    FRONTIER  207 

ersed  the  Choctaw  and  Chickasaw  reserves,  to  the 
hundredth  meridian,  where  it  emerged  from  the  pan- 
handle of  Texas,  and  across  the  panhandle  into  New 
Mexico.  After  crossing  the  upper  waters  of  the 
Rio  Pecos  he  reached  the  Rio  Grande  at  Albuquerque, 
where  his  party  tarried  for  a  month  or  more,  working 
over  their  observations,  making  local  explorations, 
and  sending  back  to  Washington  an  account  of  their 
proceedings  thus  far.  Towards  the  middle  of  Novem- 
ber they  started  on  toward  the  Colorado  Chiquita 
and  the  Bill  Williams  Fork,  through  "a  region  over 
which  no  white  man  is  supposed  to  have  passed." 
The  severest  difficulties  of  the  trip  were  found  near 
the  valley  of  the  Colorado  River,  which  was  entered 
at  the  junction  of  the  Bill  Williams  Fork  and  followed 
north  for  several  days.  A  crossing  here  was  made 
near  the  supposed  mouth  of  the  Mojave  River  at  a 
place  where  porphyritic  and  trap  dykes,  outcropping, 
gave  rise  to  the  name  of  the  Needles.  The  river 
was  crossed  February  27,  1854,  three  weeks  before 
the  party  reached  Los  Angeles. 

South  of  the  route  of  Lieutenant  Whipple,  the 
thirty-second  parallel  survey  was  run  to  the  Fort 
Yuma  crossing  of  the  Colorado  River.  No  attempt 
was  made  in  this  case  at  a  comprehensive  survey 
under  a  single  leader.  Instead,  the  section  from  the 
Rio  Grande  at  El  Paso  to  the  Red  River  at  Preston, 
Texas,  was  run  by  John  Pope,  brevet  captain  in  the 
topographical  engineers,  in  the  spring  of  1854. 
Lieutenant  J.  G.  Parke  carried  the  line  at  the  same 


208  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

time  from  the  Pimas  villages  on  the  Gila  to  the  Rio 
Grande.  West  of  the  Pimas  villages  to  the  Colorado, 
a  reconnoissance  made  by  Lieutenant-colonel  Emory 
in  1847  was  drawn  upon.  The  lines  in  California 
were  surveyed  by  yet  a  different  party.  Here  again 
an  easy  route  was  discovered  to  exist.  Within  the 
states  of  California  and  Oregon  various  connecting 
lines  were  surveyed  by  parties  under  Lieutenant 
R.  S.  Williamson  in  1855. 

The  evidence  accumulated  by  the  Pacific  railway 
surveys  began  to  pour  in  upon  the  War  Department 
in  the  spring  of  1854.  Partial  reports  at  first,  elabo- 
rate and  minute  scientific  articles  following  later,  made 
up  a  series  which  by  the  close  of  the  decade  filled  the 
twelve  enormous  volumes  of  the  published  papers. 
Rarely  have  efforts  so  great  accomplished  so  little 
in  the  way  of  actual  contribution  to  knowledge.  The 
chief  importance  of  the  surveys  was  in  proving  by 
scientific  observation  what  was  already  a  common- 
place among  laymen  —  that  the  continent  was 
traversable  in  many  places,  and  that  the  incidental 
problems  of  railway  construction  were  in  finance 
rather  than  in  engineering.  The  engineers  stood 
ready  to  build  the  road  any  time  .and  almost  any- 
where. 

The  Secretary  of  War  submitted  to  Congress  the 
first  instalment  of  his  report  under  the  resolution 
of  March  3,  1853,  on  February  27,  1855.  As  yet  the 
labors  of  compilation  and  examination  of  the  field 
manuscripts  were  by  no  means  completed,  but  he 


THE  ENGINEERS'    FRONTIER  209 

was  able  to  make  general  statements  about  the 
probability  of  success.  At  five  points  the  continen- 
tal divide  had  been  crossed;  over  four  of  these  rail- 
ways were  entirely  practicable,  although  the  shortest 
of  the  routes  to  San  Francisco  ran  by  the  one  pass, 
Cochetopa,  where  it  would  be  unreasonable  to  con- 
struct a  road. 

From  the  routes  surveyed,  Secretary  Davis  recom- 
mended one  as  "the  most  practicable  and  economical 
route  for  a  railroad  from  the  Mississippi  River  to  the 
Pacific  Ocean. "  In  all  cases  cost,  speed  of  con- 
struction, and  ease  in  operation  needed  to  be  ascer- 
tained and  compared.  The  estimates  guessed  at  by 
the  parties  in  the  field,  and  revised  by  the  War  De- 
partment, pointed  to  the  southernmost  as  the  most 
desirable  route.  To  reach  this  conclusion  it  was 
necessary  to  accuse  Governor  Stevens  of  underesti- 
mating the  cost  of  labor  along  his  northern  line; 
but  the  figures  as  taken  were  conclusive.  On  this 
thirty-second  parallel  route,  declared  the  Secretary 
of  War,  "the  progress  of  the  work  will  be  regulated 
chiefly  by  the  speed  with  which  cross-ties  and  rails 
can  be  delivered  and  laid.  .  .  .  The  few  difficult 
points  .  .  .  would  delay  the  work  but  an  inconsider- 
able period.  .  .  .  The  climate  on  this  route  is  such 
as  to  cause  less  interruption  to  the  work  than  on  any 
other  route.  Not  only  is  this  the  shortest  and  least 
costly  route  to  the  Pacific,  but  it  is  the  shortest  and 
cheapest  route  to  San  Francisco,  the  greatest  com- 
mercial city  on  our  western  coast;  while  the  aggre- 


210  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

gate  length  of  railroad  lines  connecting  it  at  its  eastern 
terminus  with  the  Atlantic  and  Gulf  seaports  is  less 
than  the  aggregate  connection  with  any  other  route." 

The  Pacific  railway  surveys  had  been  ordered  as 
the  only  step  which  Congress  in  its  situation  of  dead- 
lock could  take.  Senator  Gwin  had  long  ago  told 
his  fears  that  the  advocates  of  the  disappointed  routes 
would  unite  to  hinder  the  fortunate  one.  To  the 
South,  as  to  Jefferson  Davis,  Secretary  of  War,  the 
thirty-second  parallel  route  was  satisfactory;  but 
there  was  as  little  chance  of  building  a  railway  as 
there  had  been  in  1850.  In  days  to  come,  discussion 
of  railways  might  be  founded  upon  facts  rather  than 
hopes  and  fears,  but  either  unanimity  or  compromise 
was  in  a  fairly  remote  future.  The  overland  traffic, 
which  was  assuming  great  volume  as  the  surveys 
progressed,  had  yet  nearly  fifteen  years  before  the 
railway  should  drive  it  out  of  existence.  And  no 
railway  could  even  be  started  before  war  had 
removed  one  of  the  contesting  sections  from  the  floor 
of  Congress. 

Yet  in  the  years  since  Asa  Whitney  had  begun  his 
agitation  the  railways  of  the  East  had  constantly 
expanded.  The  first  bridge  to  cross  the  Mississippi 
was  under  construction  when  Davis  reported  in  1855. 
The  Illinois  Central  was  opened  in  1856.  When  the 
Civil  War  began,  the  railway  frontier  had  become 
coterminous  with  the  agricultural  frontier,  and  both 
were  ready  to  span  the  gap  which  separated  them 
from  the  Pacific. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE    UNION   PACIFIC   RAILROAD 

IT  has  been  pointed  out  by  Davis  in  his  history  of 
the  Union  Pacific  Railroad  that  the  period  of  agita- 
tion was  approaching  probable  success  when  the  latter 
was  deferred  because  of  the  rivalry  of  sections  and 
localities  into  which  the  scheme  was  thrown.  From 
about  1850  until  1853  it  indeed  seemed  likely  that 
the  road  would  be  built  just  so  soon  as  the  terminus 
could  be  agreed  upon.  To  be  sure,  there  was  keen 
rivalry  over  this ;  yet  the  rivalry  did  not  go  beyond 
local  jealousies  and  might  readily  be  compromised. 
After  the  reports  of  the  surveys  were  completed  and 
presented  to  Congress  the  problem  took  on  a  new  as- 
pect which  promised  postponement  until  a  far  greater 
question  could  be  solved.  Slavery  and  the  Pacific 
railroad  are  concrete  illustrations  of  the  two  horns 
of  the  national  dilemma. 

As  a  national  project,  the  railway  raised  the  prob- 
lem of  its  construction  under  national  auspices. 
Was  the  United  States,  or  should  it  become,  a  nation 
competent  to  undertake  the  work?  With  no  hesi- 
tation, many  of  the  advocates  of  the  measure  an- 
swered yes.  Yet  even  among  the  friends  of  the 
road  the  query  frequently  evoked  the  other  answer. 

211 


212  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Slavery  had  already  taken  its  place  as  an  institution 
peculiar  to  a  single  section.  Its  defence  and  per- 
petuation depended  largely  upon  proving  the  con- 
trary of  the  proposition  that  the  Pacific  railroad 
demanded.  For  the  purposes  of  slavery  defence  the 
United  States  must  remain  a  mere  federation,  limited 
in  powers  and  lacking  in  the  attributes  of  sovereignty 
and  nationality.  Looking  back  upon  this  struggle, 
with  half  a  century  gone  by,  it  becomes  clear  that  the 
final  answer  upon  both  questions,  slavery  and  rail- 
way, had  to  be  postponed  until  the  more  fundamental 
question  of  federal  character  had  been  worked  out. 
The  antitheses  were  clear,  even  as  Lincoln  saw  them 
in  1858.  Slavery  and  localism  on  the  one  hand, 
railway  and  nationalism  on  the  other,  were  engaged 
in  a  vital  struggle  for  recognition.  Together  they 
were  incompatible.  One  or  the  other  must  sur- 
vive alone.  Lincoln  saw  a  portion  of  the  problem, 
and  he  sketched  the  answer:  "I  do  not  expect  the 
Union  to  be  dissolved,  —  I  do  not  expect  the  house 
to  fall,  but  I  do  expect  it  will  cease  to  be  divided." 
The  stages  of  the  Pacific  railroad  movement  are 
clearly  marked  through  all  these  squabbles.  Agi- 
tation came  first,  until  conviction  and  acceptance 
were  general.  This  was  the  era  of  Asa  Whitney. 
Reconnoissance  and  survey  followed,  in  a  decade 
covering  approximately  1847-1857.  Organization 
came  last,  beginning  in  tentative  schemes  which 
counted  for  little,  passing  through  a  long  series  of 
intricate  debates  in  Congress,  and  being  merged  in 


THE   UNION  PACIFIC  RAILROAD  213 

the  larger  question  of  nationality,  but  culminating 
finally  in  the  first  Pacific  railroad  bills  of  1862  and 
1864. 

When  Congress  began  its  session  of  1853-1854, 
most  of  the  surveying  parties  contemplated  by  the 
act  of  the  previous  March  were  still  in  the  field.  The 
reports  ordered  were  not  yet  available,  and  Congress 
recognized  the  inexpediency  of  proceeding  farther 
without  the  facts.  It  is  notable,  however,  that  both 
houses  at  this  time  created  select  committees  to 
consider  propositions  for  a  railway.  Both  of  these 
committees  reported  bills,  but  neither  received 
sanction  even  in  the  house  of  its  friends.  The  next 
session,  1854-1855,  saw  the  great  struggle  between 
Douglas  and  Benton. 

Stephen  A.  Douglas,  who  had  triumphantly  carried 
through  his  Kansas-Nebraska  bill  in  the  preceding 
May,  started  a  railway  bill  in  the  Senate  in  1855. 
As  finally  considered  and  passed  by  the  Senate,  his 
bill  provided  for  three  railroads :  a  Northern  Pacific, 
from  the  western  border  of  Wisconsin  to  Puget  Sound ; 
a  Southern  Pacific,  from  the  western  border  of  Texas 
to  the  Pacific ;  and  a  Central  Pacific,  from  Missouri 
or  Iowa  to  San  Francisco.  They  were  to  be  con- 
structed by  private  parties  under  contracts  to  be  let 
jointly  by  the  Secretaries  of  War  and  Interior  and 
the  Postmaster-general.  Ultimately  they  were  to 
become  the  property  of  the  United  States  and  the 
states  through  which  they  passed.  The  House  of 
Representatives,  led  by  Benton  in  the  interests  of  a 


214  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

central  road,  declined  to  pass  the  Douglas  measure. 
Before  its  final  rejection,  it  was  amended  to  please 
Benton  and  his  allies  by  the  restriction  to  a  single 
trunk  line  from  San  Francisco,  with  eastern  branches 
diverging  to  Lake  Superior,  Missouri  or  Iowa,  and 
Memphis. 

During  the  two  years  following  the  rejection  of  the 
Douglas  scheme  by  the  allied  malcontents,  the  select 
committees  on  the  Pacific  railways  had  few  proposi- 
tions to  consider,  while  Congress  paid  little  attention 
to  the  general  matter.  Absorbing  interest  in  politics, 
the  new  Republican  party,  and  the  campaign  of  1856 
were  responsible  for  part  of  the  neglect.  The  con- 
viction of  the  dominant  Democrats  that  the  nation 
had  no  power  to  perform  the  task  was  respon- 
sible for  more.  The  transition  from  a  question  of 
selfish  localism  to  one  of  national  policy  which 
should  require  the  whole  strength  of  the  nation  for 
its  solution  was  under  way.  The  northern  friends  of 
the  railway  were  disheartened  by  the  southern  ten- 
dencies of  the  Democratic  administration  which 
lasted  till  1861.  Jefferson  Davis,  as  Secretary  of 
War,  was  followed  by  Floyd,  of  Virginia,  who  believed 
with  his  predecessor  that  the  southern  was  the  most 
eligible  route.  At  the  same  time,  Aaron  V.  Brown, 
of  Tennessee,  Postmaster-general,  was  awarding  the 
postal  contract  for  an  overland  mail  to  Butter- 
field's  southern  route  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  Con- 
gress had  probably  intended  the  central  route  to  be 
employed. 


THE  UNION  PACIFIC  RAILROAD  215 

Between  1857  and  1861  the  debates  of  Congress 
show  the  difficulties  under  which  the  railroad  la- 
bored. Many  bills  were  started,  but  few  could  get 
through  the  committees.  In  1859  the  Senate  passed 
a  bill.  In  1860  the  House  passed  one  which  the 
Senate  amended  to  death.  In  the  session  of  1860- 
1861  its  serious  consideration  was  crowded  out  by 
the  incipiency  of  war. 

Through  the  long  years  of  debate  over  the  organ- 
ization of  the  road,  the  nature  of  its  management 
and  the  nature  of  its  governmental  aid  were  much 
in  evidence.  Save  only  the  Cumberland  road  the 
United  States  had  undertaken  no  such  scheme, 
while  the  Cumberland  road,  vastly  less  in  magnitude 
than  this,  had  raised  enough  constitutional  difficul- 
ties to  last  a  generation.  That  there  must  be  some 
connection  between  the  road  and  the  public  lands 
had  been  seen  even  before  Whitney  commenced 
his  advocacy.  The  nature  of  that  connection  was 
worked  out  incidentally  to  other  movements  while 
the  Whitney  scheme  was  under  fire. 

The  policy  of  granting  lands  in  aid  of  improvements 
in  transportation  had  been  hinted  at  as  far  back  as 
the  admission  of  Ohio,  but  it  had  not  received  its  full 
development  until  the  railroad  period  began.  To 
some  extent,  in  the  thirties  and  forties,  public  lands 
had  been  allotted  to  the  states  to  aid  in  canal 
building,  but  when  the  railroad  promoters  started 
their  campaign  in  the  latter  decade,  a  new  era  in  the 
history  of  the  public  domain  was  commenced.  The 


216  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

definitive  fight  over  the  issue  of  land  grants  for  rail- 
ways took  place  in  connection  with  the  Illinois 
Central  and  Mobile  and  Ohio  scheme  in  the  years 
from  1847  to  1850. 

The  demand  for  a  central  railroad  in  Illinois  made 
its  appearance  before  the  panic  of  1837.  The  north- 
west states  were  now  building  their  own  railroads, 
and  this  enterprise  was  designed  to  connect  the 
Galena  lead  country  with  the  junction  of  the  Ohio 
and  Mississippi  by  a  road  running  parallel  to  the 
Mississippi  through  the  whole  length  of  the  state  of 
Illinois.  Private  railways  in  the  Northwest  ran 
naturally  from  east  to  west,  seeking  termini  on  the 
Mississippi  and  at  the  Alleghany  crossings.  This 
one  was  to  intersect  all  the  horizontal  roads,  making 
useful  connections  everywhere.  But  it  traversed  a 
country  where  yet  the  prairie  hen  held  uncontested 
sway.  There  was  little  population  or  freight  to  j  ustif  y 
it,  and  hence  the  project,  though  it  guised  itself  in  at 
least  three  different  corporate  garments  before  1845, 
failed  of  success.  No  one  of  the  multitude  of  trans- 
verse railways,  on  whose  junctions  it  had  counted, 
crossed  its  right-of-way  before  1850.  La  Salle, 
Galena,  and  Jonesboro  were  the  only  villages  on  its 
line  worth  marking  on  a  large-scale  map,  while 
Chicago  was  yet  under  forty  thousand  in  population. 

Men  who  in  the  following  decade  led  the  Pacific 
railway  agitation  promoted  the  Illinois  Central  idea 
in  the  years  immediately  preceding  1850.  Both 
Breese  and  Douglas  of  Illinois  claimed  the  parentage 


THE  UNION  PACIFIC  RAILROAD  217 

of  the  bill  which  eventually  passed  Congress  in  1850, 
and  by  opening  the  way  to  public  aid  for  railway 
transportation  commenced  the  period  of  the  land- 
grant  railroads.  Already  in  some  of  the  canal  grants 
the  method  of  aid  had  been  outlined,  alternate  sec- 
tions of  land  along  the  line  of  the  canal  being  con- 
veyed to  the  company  to  aid  it  in  its  work.  The 
theory  underlying  the  granting  of  alternate  sections 
in  the  familiar  checker-board  fashion  was  that  the 
public  lands,  while  inaccessible,  had  slight  value,  but 
once  reached  by  communication  the  alternate  sec- 
tions reserved  by  the  United  States  would  bring  a 
higher  price  than  the  whole  would  have  done  without 
the  canal,  while  the  construction  company  would  be 
aided  without  expense  to  any  one.  The  application 
of  this  principle  to  railroads  came  rather  slowly  in  a 
Congress  somewhat  disturbed  by  a  doubt  as  to  its 
power  to  devote  the  public  resources  to  internal  im- 
provements. The  sectional  character  of  the  Illinois 
Central  railway  was  against  it  until  its  promoters  en- 
larged the  scheme  into  a  Lake-to-Gulf  railway  by 
including  plans  for  a  continuation  to  Mobile  from 
the  Ohio.  With  southern  aid  thus  enticed  to  its 
support,  the  bill  became  a  law  in  1850.  By  its  terms, 
the  alternate  sections  of  land  in  a  strip  ten  miles 
wide  were  given  to  the  interested  states  to  be  used 
for  the  construction  of  the  Illinois  Central  and  the 
Mobile  and  Ohio.  The  grants  were  made  directly 
to  the  states  because  of  constitutional  objections  to 
construction  within  a  state  without  its  consent  and 


218  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

approval.  It  was  twelve  years  before  Congress  was 
ready  to  give  the  lands  directly  to  the  railroad  com- 
pany. 

The  decade  following  the  Illinois  Central  grant 
was  crowded  with  applications  from  other  states  for 
grants  upon  the  same  terms.  In  this  period  of  specu- 
lative construction  before  the  panic  of  1857,  every 
western  state  wanted  all  the  aid  it  could  get.  In  a 
single  session  seven  states  asked  for  nearly  fourteen 
million  acres  of  land,  while  before  1857  some  five 
thousand  miles  of  railway  had  been  aided  by  land 
grants. 

When  Asa  Whitney  began  his  agitation  for  the 
Pacific  railway,  he  asked  for  a  huge  land  grant,  but 
the  machinery  and  methods  of  the  grants  had  not 
yet  become  familiar  to  Congress.  During  the  sub- 
sequent fifteen  years  of  agitation  and  survey  the 
method  was  worked  out,  so  that  when  political  con- 
ditions made  it  possible  to  build  the  road,  there  had 
ceased  to  be  great  difficulty  in  connection  with  its 
subsidy. 

The  sectional  problem,  which  had  reached  its  full 
development  in  Congress  by  1857,  prevented  any 
action  in  the  interest  of  a  Pacific  railway  so  long  as  it 
should  remain  unchanged.  As  the  bickerings  wi- 
dened into  war,  the  railway  still  remained  a  practical 
impossibility.  But  after  war  had  removed  from 
Congress  the  representatives  of  the  southern  states 
the  way  was  cleared  for  action.  When  Congress 
met  in  its  war  session  of  July,  1861,  all  agitation  in 


THE  UNION  PACIFIC  RAILROAD  219 

favor  of  southern  routes  was  silenced  by  disunion. 
It  remained  only  to  choose  among  the  routes  lying 
north  of  the  thirty-fifth  parallel,  and  to  authorize 
the  construction  along  one  of  them  of  the  railway 
which  all  admitted  to  be  possible  of  construction, 
and  to  which  military  need  in  preservation  of  the 
union  had  now  added  an  imperative  quality. 

The  summer  session  of  1861  revived  the  bills  for  a 
Pacific  railway,  and  handed  them  over  to  the  regular 
session  of  1861-1862  as  unfinished  business.  In  the 
lobby  at  this  later  session  was  Theodore  D.  Judah, 
a  young  graduate  of  the  Troy  Polytechnic,  who  gave 
powerful  aid  to  the  final  settlement  of  route  and 
means.  Judah  had  come  east  in  the  autumn  in 
company  with  one  of  the  newly  elected  California 
representatives.  During  the  long  sea  voyage  he 
had  drilled  into  his  companion,  who  happily  was  later 
appointed  to  the  Pacific  Railroad  Committee,  all  of 
the  elaborate  knowledge  of  the  railway  problem 
which  he  had  acquired  in  his  advocacy  of  the  railway 
on  the  Pacific  Coast.  California  had  begun  the  con- 
struction of  local  railways  several  years  before  the 
war  broke  out;  a  Pacific  railway  was  her  constant 
need  and  prayer.  Her  own  corporations  were 
planned  with  reference  to  the  time  when  tracks  from 
the  East  should  cross  her  border  and  find  her  local 
creations  waiting  for  connections  with  them. 

When  the  advent  of  war  promised  an  early  ma- 
turity for  the  scheme,  a  few  Californians  organized 
the  most  significant  of  the  California  railways,  the 


220  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

Central  Pacific.  On  June  28,  1861,  this  company 
was  incorporated,  having  for  its  leading  spirits  Judah, 
its  chief  engineer,  and  Collis  Potter  Huntington, 
Mark  Hopkins,  Charles  Crocker,  and  Leland  Stan- 
ford, soon  to  be  governor  of  the  state.  Its  founders 
were  all  men  of  moderate  means,  but  they  had  the  best 
of  that  foresight  and  initiative  in  which  the  frontier 
was  rich.  Diligently  through  the  summer  of  1861 
Judah  prospected  for  routes  across  the  mountains 
into  Utah  territory,  where  the  new  silver  fields 
around  Carson  indicated  the  probable  course  of  a 
route.  With  his  plans  and  profiles,  he  hurried  on 
to  Washington  in  the  fall  to  aid  in  the  quick  settle- 
ment of  the  long-debated  question. 

Judah7 s  interest  in  a  special  California  road  coin- 
cided well  with  the  needs  and  desires  of  Congress. 
Already  various  bills  were  in  the  hands  of  the  select 
committees  of  both  houses.  The  southern  interest 
was  gone.  The  only  remaining  rivalries  were 
among  St.  Louis,  Chicago,  and  the  new  Minnesota; 
while  the  first  of  these  was  tainted  by  the  doubtful 
loyalty  of  Missouri,  and  the  last  was  embarrassed 
by  the  newness  of  its  territory  and  its  lack  of  popu- 
lation. The  Sioux  were  yet  in  control  of  much 
of  the  country  beyond  St.  Paul.  Out  of  this  rivalry 
Chicago  and  a  central  route  could  emerge  trium- 
phant. 

The  spring  of  1862  witnessed  a  long  debate  over  a 
Union  Pacific  railroad  to  meet  the  new  military  needs 
of  the  United  States  as  well  as  to  satisfy  the  old  eco- 


THE  UNION  PACIFIC  RAILROAD  221 

nomic  necessities.  Why  it  was  called  " Union"  is 
somewhat  in  doubt.  Bancroft  thinks  its  name  was 
descriptive  of  the  various  local  roads  which  were 
bound  together  in  the  single  continental  scheme. 
Davis,  on  the  contrary,  is  inclined  to  believe  that  the 
name  was  in  contrast  to  the  " Disunion"  route  of  the 
thirty-second  parallel,  since  the  route  chosen  was 
to  run  entirely  through  loyal  territory.  Whatever 
the  reason,  however,  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad  Com- 
pany was  incorporated  on  the  1st  of  July,  1862. 

Under  the  act  of  incorporation  a  continental  rail- 
way was  to  be  constructed  by  several  companies. 
Within  the  limits  of  California,  the  Central  Pacific 
of  California,  already  organized  and  well  managed, 
was  to  have  the  privilege.  Between  the  boundary 
line  of  California  and  Nevada  and  the  hundredth 
meridian,  the  new  Union  Pacific  was  to  be  the  con- 
structing company.  On  the  hundredth  meridian,  at 
some  point  between  the  Republican  River  in  Kansas 
and  the  Platte  River  in  Nebraska,  radiating  lines 
were  to  advance  to  various  eastern  frontier  points, 
somewhat  after  the  fashion  of  Benton's  bill  of  1855. 
Thus  the  Leavenworth,  Pawnee,  and  Western  of 
Kansas  was  authorized  to  connect  this  point  with 
the  Missouri  River,  south  of  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas, 
with  a  branch  to  Atchison  and  St.  Joseph  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Hannibal  and  St.  Joseph  of  Missouri. 
The  Union  Pacific  itself  was  required  to  build  two 
more  connections;  one  to  run  from  the  hundredth 
meridian  to  some  point  on  the  west  boundary  of 


222  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

Iowa,  to  be  fixed  by  the  President  of  the  United 
States,  and  another  to  Sioux  City,  Iowa,  whenever 
a  line  from  the  east  should  reach  that  place. 

The  aid  offered  for  the  construction  of  these  lines 
was  more  generous  than  any  previously  provided  by 
Congress.  In  the  first  place,  the  roads  were  entitled 
to  a  right-of-way  four  hundred  feet  wide,  with  per- 
mission to  take  material  for  construction  from  ad- 
jacent parts  of  the  public  domain.  Secondly,  the 
roads  were  to  receive  ten  sections  of  land  for  each  mile 
of  track  on  the  familiar  alternate  section  principle. 
Finally,  the  United  States  was  to  lend  to  the  roads 
bonds  to  the  amount  of  $16,000  per  mile,  on  the 
level,  $32,000  in  the  foothills,  and  $48,000  in 
the  mountains,  to  facilitate  construction.  If  not 
completed  and  open  by  1876,  the  whole  line  was  to  be 
forfeited  to  the  United  States.  If  completed,  the 
loan  of  bonds  was  to  be  repaid  out  of  subsequent 
earnings. 

The  Central  Pacific  of  California  was  prompt  in  its 
acceptance  of  the  terms  of  the  act  of  July  1,  1862. 
It  proceeded  with  its  organization,  broke  ground  at 
Sacramento  on  February  22,  1863,  and  had  a  few 
miles  of  track  in  operation  before  the  next  year  closed. 
But  the  Union  Pacific  was  slow.  "  While  fighting 
to  retain  eleven  refractory  states,"  wrote  one  irri- 
tated critic  of  the  act,  "  the  nation  permitted  itself 
to  be  cozened  out  of  territory  sufficient  to  form 
twelve  new  republics."  Yet  great  as  were  the  offered 
grants,  eastern  capital  was  reluctant  to  put  life 


THE   UNION    PACIFIC   RAILROAD  223 

into  the  new  route  across  the  plains.  That  it  could 
ever  pay,  was  seriously  doubted.  Chances  for  more 
certain  and  profitable  investment  in  the  East  were 
frequent  in  the  years  of  war-time  prosperity. 
Although  the  railroad  organized  according  to  the 
terms  of  the  law,  subscribers  to  the  stock  of  the  Union 
Pacific  were  hard  to  find,  and  the  road  lay  dormant 
for  two  more  years  until  Congress  revised  its  offer 
and  increased  its  terms. 

In  the  session  of  1863-1864  the  general  subject 
was  again  approached.  Writes  Davis,  "The  opin- 
ion was  almost  universal  that  additional  legislation 
was  needed  to  make  the  Act  of  1862  effective,  but  the 
point  where  the  limit  of  aid  to  patriotic  capitalists 
should  be  set  was  difficult  to  determine.7'  It  was, 
and  remained,  the  belief  of  the  opponents  of  the  bill 
now  passed  that  "lobbyists,  male  and  female,  .  .  . 
shysters  and  adventurers"  had  much  to  do  with  the 
success  of  the  measure.  In  its  most  essential  parts, 
the  new  bill  of  1864  increased  the  degree  of  govern- 
ment aid  to  the  companies.  The  land  grant  was 
doubled  from  ten  sections  per  mile  of  track  to 
twenty,  and  the  road  was  allowed  to  borrow  of  the 
general  public,  on  first  mortgage  bonds,  money  to  the 
amount  of  the  United  States  loan,  which  was  re- 
duced by  a  self-denying  ordinance  to  the  status  of  a 
second  mortgage.  With  these  added  inducements, 
the  Union  Pacific  was  finally  begun. 

The  project  at  last  under  way  in  1864-1865,  as 
Davis  graphically  pictures  it,  "was  thoroughly 


224  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

saturated  and  fairly  dripping  with  the  elements  of 
adventure  and  romance/'  But  he  overstates  his 
case  when  he  goes  onto  remark  that,  " Before  the 
building  of  the  Pacific  railway  most  of  the  wide 
expanse  of  territory  west  of  the  Missouri  was  terra 
incognita  to  the  mass  of  Americans."  For  twenty 
years  the  railway  had  been  under  agitation;  during 
the  whole  period  population  had  crossed  the  great 
desert  in  increasing  thousands;  new  states  had 
banked  up  around  its  circumference,  east,  west,  and 
south,  while  Kansas  had  been  thrust  into  its  middle; 
new  camps  had  dotted  its  interior.  The  great  West 
was  by  no  means  unknown,  but  with  the  construction 
of  the  railway  the  American  frontier  entered  upon 
its  final  phase. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   PLAINS   IN   THE    CIVIL   WAR 

THAT  the  fate  of  the  outlying  colonies  of  the 
United  States  should  have  aroused  grave  concerns 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War  is  not  surprising. 
California  and  Oregon,  Carson  City,  Denver,  and 
the  other  mining  camps  were  indeed  on  the  same  con- 
tinent with  the  contending  factions,  but  the  degree 
of  their  isolation  was  so  great  that  they  might  as  well 
have  been  separated  by  an  ocean.  Their  inhabit- 
ants were  more  mixed  than  those  of  any  portion  of 
the  older  states,  while  in  several  of  the  communities 
the  parties  were  so  evenly  divided  as  to  raise  doubts 
of  the  loyalty  of  the  whole.  "The  malignant  seces- 
sion element  of  this  Territory,"  wrote  Governor  Gil- 
pin  of  Colorado,  in  October,  1861,  "has  numbered 
7,500.  It  has  been  ably  and  secretly  organized  from 
November  last,  and  requires  extreme  and  extraor- 
dinary measures  to  meet  and  control  its  onslaught." 
At  best,  the  western  population  was  scanty  and  scat- 
tered over  a  frontier  that  still  possessed  its  virgin 
character  in  most  respects,  though  hovering  at  the 
edge  of  a  period  of  transition.  An  English  observer, 
hopeful  for  the  worst,  announced  in  the  middle  of  the 
war  that  "When  that  Mate  lamented  institution/ 

Q  225 


226  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

the  once  United  States,  shall  have  passed  away,  and 
when,  after  this  detestable  and  fratricidal  war  — 
the  most  disgraceful  to  human  nature  that  civiliza- 
tion ever  witnessed  —  the  New  World  shall  be  re- 
stored to  order  and  tranquility,  our  shikaris  will  not 
forget,  that  a  single  fortnight  of  comfortable  travel 
suffices  to  transport  them  from  fallow  deer  and 
pheasant  shooting  to  the  haunts  of  the  bison  and  the 
grizzly  bear.  There  is  little  chance  of  these  animals 
being  '  improved  off7  the  Prairies,  or  even  of  their 
becoming  rare  during  the  lifetime  of  the  present 
generation."  The  factors  of  most  consequence  in 
shaping  the  course  of  the  great  plains  during  the  Civil 
War  were  those  of  mixed  population,  of  ever  present 
Indian  danger,  and  of  isolation.  Though  the  plains 


had  no  effect  upon_the_outcome  otliFwar,  the"war 
furthered~the  work  already  under 


known  the  West,  clearing  off  the  Indians,  and  pre- 
paring for  future  settlement. 

~TLiGe"  the  rest  of  the  United  States  the  West  was 
organized  into  military  divisions  for  whose  good  order 
commanding  officers  were  made  responsible.  At 
times  the  burden  of  military  control  fell  chiefly 
upon  the  shoulders  of  territorial  governors;  again, 
special  divisions  were  organized  to  meet  particular 
needs,  and  generals  of  experience  were  detached  from 
the  main  armies  to  direct  movements  in  the  West. 

Among  the  earliest  of  the  episodes  which  drew 
attention  to  the  western  departments  was  the  resig- 
nation of  Albert  Sidney  Johnston,  commanding  the 


THE  PLAINS   IN  THE  CIVIL  WAR  227 

• 

Department  of  the  Pacific,  and  his  rather  spectacular 
flight  across  New  Mexico,  to  join  the  confederate 
forces.  From  various  directions,  federal  troops  were 
sent  to  head  him  off,  but  he  succeeded  in  evading  all 
these  and  reaching  safety  at  the  Rio  Grande  by 
August  1.  Here  he  could  take  an  overland  stage 
for  the  rest  of  his  journey.  The  department  which 
he  abandoned  included  the  whole  West  beyond 
the  Rockies  except  Utah  and  present  New  Mexico. 
The  country  between  the  mountains  and  Missouri 
constituted  the  Department  of  the  West.  As  the 
war  advanced,  new  departments  were  created  and 
boundaries  were  shifted  at  convenience.  The  De- 
partment of  the  Pacific  remained  an  almost  constant 
quantity  throughout.  A  Department  of  the  North- 
west, covering  the  territory  of  the  Sioux  Indians, 
was  created  in  September,  1862,  for  the  better  de- 
fence of  Minnesota  and  Wisconsin.  To  this  com- 
mand Pope  was  assigned  after  his  removal  from  the 
command  of  the  Army  of  Virginia.  Until  the  close 
of  the  war,  when  the  great  leaders  were  distributed 
and  Sheridan  received  the  Department  of  the  South- 
west, no  detail  of  equal  importance  was  made  to  a 
western  department. 

The  fighting  on  the  plains  was  rarely  important 
enough  to  receive  the  dignified  name  of  battle. 
There  were  plenty  of  marching  and  reconnoitring, 
much  police  duty  along  the  trails,  occasional  skir- 
mishes with  organized  troops  or  guerrillas,  aggressive 
campaigns  against  the  Indians,  and  campaigns  in 


228  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

defence  of  the  agricultural  frontier.  But  the  armies 
so  occupied  were  small  and  inexperienced.  Com- 
monly regiments  of  local  volunteers  were  used  in 
these  movements,  or  returned  captives  who  were  on 
parole  to  serve  no  more  against  the  confederacy. 
Disciplined  veterans  were  rarely  to  be  found.  As  a 
consequence  of  the  spasmodic  character  of  the  plains 
warfare  and  the  inferior  quality  of  the  troops  avail- 
able, western  movements  were  often  hampered  and 
occasionally  made  useless. 

The  struggle  for  the  Rio  Grande  was  as  important 
as  any  of  the  military  operations  on  the  plains.  At 
the  beginning  of  the  war  the  confederate  forces 
seized  the  river  around  El  Paso  in  time  to  make  clear 
the  way  for  Johnston  as  he  hurried  east.  The 
Tucson  country  was  occupied  about  the  same  time, 
so  that  in  the  fall  of  1861  the  confederate  outposts 
were  somewhat  beyond  the  line  of  Texas  and  the 
Rio  Grande,  with  New  Mexico,  Utah,  and  Colorado 
threatened.  In  December  General  Henry  Hopkins 
jSibley  assumed  command  of  the  confederate  troops 
in  the  upper  Rio  Grande,  while  Colonel  E.  R.  S. 
Canby,  from  Fort  Craig,  organized  the  resistance 
against  further  extension  of  the  confederate  power. 

Sibley's  manifest  intentions  against  the  upper  Rio 
Grande  country,  around  Santa  Fe  and  Albuquerque, 
aroused  federal  apprehensions  in  the  winter  of  1862. 
Governor  Gilpin,  at  Denver,  was  already  frightened 
at  the  danger  within  his  own  territory,  and  scarcely 
needed  the  order  which  came  from  Fort  Leavenworth 


THE  PLAINS  IN  THE  CIVIL  WAR  229 

through  General  Hunter  to  reenforce  Canby  and 
look  after  the  Colorado  forts.  He  took  responsibility 
easily,  drew  upon  the  federal  treasury  for  funds 
which  had  not  been  allowed  him,  and  shortly  had 
the  first  Colorado,  and  a  part  of  the  second  Colo- 
rado volunteers  marching  south  to  join  the  defensive 
columns.  It  is  difficult  to  define  this  march  in  terms 
applicable  to  movements  of  war.  At  least  one  soldier 
in  the  second  Colorado  took  with  him  two  children 
and  a  wife,  the  last  becoming  the  historian  of  the 
regiment  and  praising  the  chivalry  of  the  soldiers, 
apparently  oblivious  of  the  fact  that  it  is  not  a 
soldier's  duty  to  be  child's  nurse  to  his  comrade's 
family.  But  with  wife  and  children,  and  the  degree 
of  individualism  and  insubordination  which  these 
imply,  the  Pike's  Peak  frontiersmen  marched  south 
to  save  the  territory.  Their  patriotism  at  least  was 
sure. 

As  Sibley  pushed _up  the  ri^ar,  passing  Fort  Craig 
and  brushing  aside  a  small  force  at  Valverde,  the 
Colorado  forces  reached  Fort  Union.  Between 
Fort  Union  and  Albuquerque,  which  Sibley  entered 
easily,  was  the  turning-point  in  the  campaign.  On 
March  26,  1862,  Major  J.  M.  Chivington  had  a  suc- 
cessful skirmish  at  Johnson's  ranch  in  Apache  Canon, 
about  twenty  miles  southeast  of  Santa  Fe.  Two 
days  later,  at  Pigeon's  ranch,  a  more  decisive  check 
was  given  to  the  confederates,  but  Colonel  John  P. 
Slough,  senior  volunteer  in  command,  fell  back  upon 
Fort  Union  after  the  engagement,  while  the  confed- 


230  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

erates  were  left  free  to  occupy  Santa  Fe.  A  few  days 
later  Slough  was  deposed  in  the  Colorado  regiment, 
Chivington  made  colonel,  and  the  advance  on  Santa 
Fe  begun  again.  Sibley,  now  caught  between  Canby 
advancing  from  Fort  Craig  and  Chivington  coming 
through  Apache  Canon  from  Fort  Union,  evacuated 
Sante  Fe  on  April  7,  falling  back  to  Albuquerque. 
The  union  troops,  taking  Santa  Fe  on  April  12,  hur- 
ried down  the  Rio  Grande  after  Sibley  in  his  final 
retreat.  New  Mexico  was  saved,  and  its  security 
brought  tranquillity  to  Colorado.  The  Colorado 
volunteers  were  back  in  Denver  for  the  winter  of 
1862-1863,  but  Gilpin,  whose  vigorous  and  indepen- 
dent support  had  made  possible  their  campaign,  had 
been  dismissed  from  his  post  as  governor. 

Along  the  frontier  of  struggle  campaigns  of  this 
sort  occurred  from  time  to  time,  receiving  little  at- 
tention from  the  authorities  who  were  directing 
weightier  movements  at  the  centre.  Less  formal 
than  these,  and  more  provocative  of  bitter  feeling, 
were  the  attacks  of  guerrillas  along  the  central  fron- 
tier, —  chiefly  the  Missouri  border  and  eastern 
Kansas.  Here  the  passions  of  the  struggle  for  Kan- 
sas had  not  entirely  cooled  down, .  southern  sympa- 
thizers were  easily  found,  and  communities  divided 
among  themselves  were  the  more  intense  in  their 
animosities. 

The  Department  of  Kansas,  where  the  most  ag- 
gravated of  these  guerrilla  conflicts  occurred,  was 
organized  in  November,  1861,  under  Major-general 


THE  PLAINS  IN  THE  CIVIL  WAR  231 

Hunter.  From  his  headquarters  at  Leavenworth 
the  commanding  officer  directed  the  affairs  of  Kansas, 
Nebraska,  Dakota,  Colorado,  and  "the  Indian  Ter- 
ritory west  of  Arkansas. ' '  The  department  was  often 
shifted  and  reshaped  to  meet  the  needs  of  the  fron- 
tier. A  year  later  the  Department  of  the  Northwest 
was  cut  away  from  it,  after  the  Sioux  outbreak,  its 
own  name  was  changed  to  Missouri,  and  the  states 
of  Missouri  and  Arkansas  were  added  to  it.  Still 
later  it  was  modified  again.  But  here  throughout 
the  war  continued  the  troubles  produced  by  the 
mixture  of  frontier  and  farm-lands,  partisan  whites 
and  Indians. 

Bushwhacking,  a  composite  of  private  murder 
and  public  attack,  troubled  the  Kansas  frontier  from 
an  early  period  of  the  war.  It  was  easily  aroused 
because  of  public  animosities,  and  difficult  to  sup- 
press because  its  participating  parties  retired  quickly 
into  the  body  of  peace-professing  citizens.  In  it, 
asserted  General  Order  No.  13,  of  June  26,  1862, 
"rebel  fiends  lay  in  wait  for  their  prey  to  assassinate 
Union  soldiers  and  citizens;  it  is  therefore  .  .  .  espe- 
cially directed  that  whenever  any  of  this  class  of 
offenders  shall  be  captured,  they  shall  not  be  treated 
as  prisoners  of  war  but  be  summarily  tried  by  drum- 
head court-martial,  and  if  proved  guilty,  be  exe- 
cuted ...  on  the  spot." 

In  August,  1863,  occurred  Quantrill's  notable  raid 
into  Kansas  to  terrify  the  border  which  was  already 
harassed  enough.  The  old  border  hatred  between 


232  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Kansas  and  Missouri  had  been  intensified  by  the 
"murders,  robberies,  and  arson"  which  had  charac- 
terized the  irregular  warfare  carried  on  by  both 
sides.  In  western  Missouri,  loyal  unionists  were 
not  safe  outside  the  federal  lines;  here  the  guerrillas 
came  and  went  at  pleasure;  and  here,  about  August 
18,  Quan trill  assembled  a  band  of  some  three  hun- 
dred men  for  a  foray  into  Kansas.  On  the  20th  he 
entered  Kansas,  heading  at  once  for  Lawrence, 
which  he  surprised  on  the  21st.  Although  the  city 
arsenal  contained  plenty  of  arms  and  the  town 
could  have  mustered  500  men  on  "half  an  hour's 
notice/'  the  guerrilla  band  met  no  resistance.  It 
"robbed  most  of  the  stores  and  banks,  and  burned 
one  hundred  and  eighty-five  buildings,  including  one- 
fourth  of  the  private  residences  and  nearly  all  of  the 
business  houses  of  the  town,  and,  with  circumstances 
of  the  most  fiendish  atrocity,  murdered  140  unarmed 
men."  The  retreat  of  Quantrill  was  followed  by  a 
vigorous  federal  pursuit  and  a  partial  devastation  of 
the  adjacent  Missouri  counties.  Kansas,  indignant, 
was  in  arms  at  once,  protesting  directly  to  President 
Lincoln  of  the  "imbecility  and  incapacity"  of  Major- 
general  John  M.  Schofield,  commanding  the  De- 
partment of  the  Missouri,  "whose  policy  has  opened 
Kansas  to  invasion  and  butchery."  Instead  of  carry- 
ing out  an  unimpeded  pursuit  of  the  guerrillas, 
Schofield  had  to  devote  his  strength  to  keeping  the 
state  of  Kansas  from  declaring  war  against  and 
wreaking  indiscriminate  vengeance  upon  the  state 


THE  PLAINS  IN  THE  CIVIL  WAR  233 

of  Missouri.  A  year  after  QuantrnTs  raid  came 
Price's  Missouri  expedition,  with  its  pitched  battles 
near  Kansas  City  and  Westport,  and  its  pursuit 
through  southern  Missouri,  where  confederate  sym- 
pathizers and  the  partisan  politics  of  this  presi- 
dential year  made  punitive  campaigns  anything  but 
easy. 

Carleton's  march  into  New  Mexico  has  already 
been  described  in  connection  with  the  mining  boom 
of  Arizona.  The  silver  mines  of  the  Santa  Cruz 
Valley  had  drawn  American  population  to  Tubac  and 
Tucson  several  years  before  the  war;  while  the  con- 
federate successes  in  the  upper  Rio  Grande  in  the 
summer  of  1861  had  compelled  federal  evacuation  of 
the  district.  Colonel  E.  R.  S.  Canby  devoted  the 
small  force  at  his  command  to  regaining  the  country 
around  Albuquerque  and  Sante  Fe,  while  the  relief 
of  the  forts  between  the  Rio  Grande  and  the  Colo- 
rado was  intrusted  to  Carleton's  California  Column. 
After  May,  1862,  Carleton  was  firmly  established  in 
Tucson,  and  later  he  was  given  command  of  the  whole 
Department  of  New  Mexico.  Of  fighting  with  the 
confederates  there  was  almost  none.  He  prosecuted, 
instead,  Apache  and  Navaho  wars,  and  exploited  the 
new  gold  fields  which  were  now  found.  In  much  of 
the  West,  as  in  his  New  Mexico,  occasional  ebulli- 
tions of  confederate  sympathizers  occurred,  but  the 
military  task  of  the  commanders  was  easy. 

The  military  problem  of  the  plains  was  one  of 
police,  with  the  extinction  of  guerrilla  warfare  and 


234  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

the  pacification  of  Indians  as  its  chief  elements. 
The  careers  of  Canby,  Carleton,  and  Gilpin  indicate 
the  nature  of  the  western  strategic  warfare,  Scho- 
field's  illustrates  that  of  guerrilla  fighting,  the  Min- 
nesota outbreak  that  of  the  Indian  relations. 

In  the  Northwest,  where  the  agricultural  expan- 
sion of  the  fifties  had  worked  so  great  changes,  the 
pressure  on  the  tribes  had  steadily  increased.  In 
1851  the  Sioux  bands  had  ceded  most  of  their  terri- 
tory in  Minnesota,  and  had  agreed  upon  a  reduced 
reserve  in  the  St.  Peter's,  or  Minnesota,  Valley.  But 
the  terms  of  this  treaty  had  been  delayed  in  enforce- 
ment, while  bad  management  on  the  part  of  the 
United  States  and  the  habitual  frontier  disregard  of 
Indian  rights  created  tense  feelings,  which  might 
break  loose  at  any  time.  No  single  grievance  of  the 
Indians  caused  more  trouble  than  that  over  traders7 
claims.  The  improvident  savages  bought  largely 
of  the  traders,  on  credit,  at  extortionate  prices.  The 
traders  could  afford  the  risk  because  when  treaties 
of  cession  were  made,  their  influence  was  generally 
able  to  get  inserted  in  the  treaty  a  clause  for  satisfy- 
ing claims  against  individuals  out  of  the  tribal  funds 
before  these  were  handed  over  to  the  savages.  The 
memory  of  the  savage  was  short,  and  when  he  found 
that  his  allowance,  the  price  for  his  lands,  had  gone 
into  the  traders'  pockets,  he  could  not  realize  that  it 
had  gone  to  pay  his  debts,  but  felt,  somehow,  de- 
frauded. The  answer  would  have  been  to  prevent 
trade  with  the  Indians  on  credit.  But  the  traders' 


THE  PLAINS   IN  THE  CIVIL  WAR  235 

influence  at  Washington  was  great.  It  would  be  an 
interesting  study  to  investigate  the  connection  be- 
tween traders'  bills  and  agitation  for  new  cessions, 
since  the  latter  generally  meant  satisfaction  of  the 
former. 

Among  the  Sioux  there  were  factional  feelings  that 
had  aroused  the  apprehensions  of  their  agents  before 
the  war  broke  out.  The  " blanket"  Indians  con- 
tinually mocked  at  the  " farmers"  who  took  kindly 
to  the  efforts  of  the  United  States  for  their  agricul- 
tural civilization.  There  was  civil  strife  among  the 
progressives  and  irreconcilables  which  made  it 
difficult  to  say  what  was  the  disposition  of  the  whole 
nation.  The  condition  was  so  unstable  that  an  acci- 
dental row,  culminating  in  the  murder  of  five  whites 
at  Acton,  in  Meeker  County,  brought  down  the  most 
serious  Indian  massacre  the  frontier  had  yet  seen. 

There  was  no  more  occasion  for  a  general  uprising 
in  1862  than  there  had  been  for  several  years.  The 
wiser  fndians  realized  the  futility  of  such  a  course. 
Yet  Little  Crow,  inclined  though  he  was  to  peace, 
fell  in  with  the  radicals  as  the  tribe  discussed  their 
policy;  and  he  determined  that  since  a  massacre 
had  been  commenced  they  had  best  make  it  as  thor- 
ough as  possible.  Retribution  was  certain  whether 
they  continued  war  or  not,  and  the  farmer  Indians 
were  unlikely  to  be  distinguished  from  the  blankets 
by  angry  frontiersmen.  The  attack  fell  first  upon  the 
stores  at  the  lower  agency,  twenty  miles  above  Fort 
Ridgely,  whence  refugee  whites  fled  to  Fort  Ridgely 


236  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

with  news  of  the  outbreak.  All  day,  on  the  18th  of 
August,  massacres  occurred  along  the  St.  Peter's, 
from  near  New  Ulm  to  the  Yellow  Medicine  River. 
The  incidents  of  Indian  war  were  all  there,  in  sur- 
prise, slaughter  of  women  and  children,  mutilation 
and  torture. 

The  next  day,  Tuesday  the  19th,  the  increasing 
bands  fell  upon  the  rambling  village  of  New  Ulm, 
twenty-eight  miles  above  Mankato,  where  fugitives 
had  gathered  and  where  Judge  Charles  E.  IQandrau 
hastily  organized  a  garrison  for  defence.  He  had 
been  at  St.  Peter's  when  the  news  arrived,  and  had 
led  a  relief  band  through  the  drenching  rain,  reach- 
ing New  Ulm  in  the  evening.  On  Wednesday  after- 
noon Little  Crow,  his  band  still  growing  —  the  Sioux 
could  muster  some  1300  warriors  —  suiprised^Forb 
Ridgely,  though  with  no  success.  On  Thursday  he 
renewed  the  attack  with  a  force  now  dwindling  be- 
cause of  individual  plundering  expeditions  which  drew 
his  men  to  various  parts  of  the  neighboring  country. 
On  Friday  he  attacked  once  more. 

On  Saturday  the  23d  Little  Crow  came  down  the 
river  again  to  renew  his  fight  upon  New  Ulm,  which, 
unmolested  since  Tuesday,  had  been  increasing  its 
defences.  Here  Judge  Flandrau  led  out  the  whites 
in  a  pitched  battle.  A  few  of  his  men  were  old  fron- 
tiersmen, cool  and  determined,  of  unerring  aim; 
but  most  were  German  settlers,  recently  arrived,  and 
often  terrified  by  their  new  experiences.  During 
the  week  of  horrors  the  depredations  covered  the 


THE  PLAINS  IN  THE  CIVIL  WAR  237 

Minnesota  frontier  and  lapped  over  into  Iowa  and 
Dakota.  Isolated  families,  murdered  and  violated, 
or  led  captive  into  the  wilderness,  were  common. 
Stories  of  those  who  survived  these  dangers  form  a 
large  part  of  the  local  literature  of  this  section  of  the 
Northwest.  At  New;  Ulm  the  situation  had  become 
so  desperate  that  on  the  25th  Flandrau  evacuated  the 
town  and  led  its  whole  remaining  population  to  safety 
at  Mankato. 

Long  before  the  week  of  suffering  was  over,  aid 
had  been  started  to  the  harassed  frontier.  Governor 
Ramsey,  of  Minnesota,  hurried  to  Mendota,  and  there 
organized  a  relief  column  to  move  up  the  Minnesota 
Valley.  Henry  Hastings  Sibley,  quite  different  from 
him  of  Rio  Grande  fame,  commanded  the  column 
and  reached  St.  Peter 's  with  his  advance  on  Friday. 
By  Sunday  he  had  1400  men  with  whom  to  quiet  the 
panic  and  restore  peace  and  repopulate  the  deserted 
country.  He  was  now  joined  by  Ignatius  Donnelly, 
Lieutenant-governor,  sent  to  urge  greater  speed. 
The  advance  was  resumed.  By  Friday,  the  29th, 
they  had  reached  Fort  Ridgely,  passing  through  coun- 
try " abandoned  by  the  inhabitants;  the  houses,  in 
many  cases,  left  with  the  doors  open,  the  furniture 
undisturbed,  while  the  cattle  ranged  about  the  doors 
or  through  the  cultivated  fields."  The  country  had 
been  settled  up  to  the  very  edge  of  the  Fort  Ridgely 
reserve.  It  was  entirely  deserted,  though  only  par- 
tially devastated.  Donnelly  commented  in  his  report 
upon  the  prayer-books  and  old  German  trunks  of 


238  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

11  Johann  Schwartz,"  strewn  upon  the  ground  in  one 
place;  and  upon  bodies  found,  " bloated,  discolored, 
and  far  gone  in  decomposition/'  The  Indian  agent, 
Thomas  J.  Galbraith,  who  was  at  Fort  Ridgely  dur- 
ing the  trouble,  reported  in  1863,  that  737  whites 
were  known  to  have  been  massacred. 

Sibley,  having  reached  Fort  Ridgely,  proceeded  at 
first  to  reconnoitre  and  bury  the  dead,  then  to  follow 
the  Indians  and  rescue  the  captives.  More  than  once 
the  tribes  had  found  that  it  was  wise  to  carry  off 
prisoners,  who  by  serving  as  hostages  might  mollify 
or  prevent  punishment  for  the  original  outbreak. 
Early  in  September  there  were  pitched  battles  at 
Birch  Coolie  and  Fort  Abercrombie  and  Wood  Lake. 
At  this  last  engagement,  on  September  23,  Sibley  was 
able  not  only  to  defeat  the  tribes  and  take  nearly 
2000  prisoners,  but  to  release  227  women  and  chil- 
dren, who  had  been  the  "  prime  object,"  from  whose 
" pursuit  nothing  could  drive  or  divert  him."  The 
Indians  were  handed  over  under  arrest  to  Agent 
Galbraith  to  be  conveyed  first  to  the  Lower  Agency, 
and  then,  in  November,  to  Fort  Snelling. 

The  punishment  of  the  Sioux  was  heayy.  Inkpa- 
duta's  massacre  at  Spirit  Lake  was  still  remembered 
and  unavenged.  Sibley  now  cut  them  down  in 
battle  in  1862,  though  Little  Crow  and  other  leaders 
escaped.  In  1863^  Pope,  who  had  been  called  to 
command  a  new  department  in  the  Northwest,  or- 
ganized a_general  campaign  against  the  tribes,  send- 
ing Sibley  up  the  Minnesota  River  to  drive  them  west, 


THE  PLAINS  IN  THE  CIVIL  WAR  239 

and  Sully  up  the  Missouri  to  head  them  off,  planning 
to  catch  and  crush  them  between  the  two  columns. 
The  manoeuvre  was  badly  timed  and  failed,  while 
punishment  drifted  gradually  into  a  prolonged  war. 
Civil  retribution  was  more  severe,  and  fell,  with 
judicial  irony,  on  the  farmer  Sioux  who  had  been 
drawn  reluctantly  into  the  struggle.  At  the  Lower 
Agency,  at  Redwood,  the  captives  were  held,  while 
more  than  four  hundred  of  their  men  were  singled 
out  for  trial  for  murder.  Nothing  is  more  significant 
of  the  anomalous  nature  of  the  Indian  relation  than 
this  trial  for  murder  of  prisoners  of  war.  The  United 
States  held  the  tribes  nationally  to  account,  yet  felt 
free  to  punish  individuals  as  though  they  were  citi- 
zens of  the  United  States.  The  military  commission 
sat  at  Redwood  for  several  weeks  with  the  missionary 
and  linguist,  Rev.  S.  R.  Riggs,  "in  effect,  the  Grand 
Jury  of  the  court."  Three  hundred  and  three  were 
condemned  to  deathj)y  the  court  for  murder,  rape, 
and  arson,  their  condemnation  starting  a  wave  of 
protest  over  the  country,  headed  by  the  Indian  Com- 
missioner, W.  P.  Dole.  To  the  indignation  of  the 
frontier,  naturally  revengeful  and  never  impartial, 
President  Lincoln  yielded  to  the  protests  in  the  case 
of  most  of  the  condemned.  Yet  thirty-eight  of 
them  were  hange.d  on  a  single  scaffold  at  Mankato 
on  December  26,  1 862 .  The  innocent  and  uncon- 
demned  were  punished  also,  when  Congress  con- 
fiscated all  their  Minnesota  reserve  in  1863,  and 
transferred  the  tribe  to  Fort  Thompson  on  the 


240  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Missouri,  where  less  desirable  quarters  were  found 
for  them. 

All  along  the  edge  of  the  frontier,  from  Minnesota 
to  the  Rio  Grande,  were  problems  that  drew  the  West 
into  the  movement  of  the  Civil  War.  The  situation 
was  trying  for  both  whites  and  Indians,  but  nowhere 
did  the  Indians  suffer  between  the  millstones  as  they 
did  in  the  Indian  Territory,  where  the  Cherokee  and 
Creeks,  Choctaw  and  Chickasaw  and  Seminole, 
had  been  colonized  in  the  years  of  creation  of  the 
Indian  frontier.  For  a  generation  these  nations 
had  resided  in  comparative  peace  and  advancing 
civilization,  but  they  were  undone  by  causes  which 
they  could  not  control. 

The  confederacy  was  no  sooner  organized  than  its 
commissioners  demanded  of  the  tribes  colonized  west 
of  Arkansas  their  allegiance  and  support,  professing 
to  have  inherited  all  the  rights  and  obligations  of  the 
United  States.  To  the  Indian  leaders,  half  civilized 
and  better,  this  demand  raised  difficulties  which 
would  have  been  a  strain  on  any  diplomacy.  If 
they  remained  loyal  to  the  United  States,  the  con- 
federate forces,  adjacent  in  Arkansas  and  Texas,  and 
already  coveting  their  lands,  would  cut  them  to  pieces. 
If  they  adhered  to  the  confederacy  and  the  latter 
lost,  they  might  anticipate  the  resentment  of  the 
United  States.  Yet  they  were  too  weak  to  stand 
alone  and  were  forced  to  go  one  way  or  other.  The 
resulting  policy  was  temporizing  and  brought  to 
them  a  large  measure  of  punishment_J^omL_bQth 


THE  PLAINS  IN  THE  CIVIL  WAR  241 

sides,    and   the   heavy   subsequent    wrath    of   the 
United   States. 

John  Ross,  principal  chief  in  the  Cherokee  nation, 
tried  to  maintain  his  neutrality  at  the  commencement 
of  the  conflict,  but  the  fiction  of  Indian  nationality 
was  too  slight  for  his  effort  to  be  successful.  During 
the  spring  and  summer  of  1861  he  struggled  against 
the  confederate  control  to  which  he  succumbed  by 
August,  when  confederate  troops  had  overrun  most 
of  Indian  Territory,  and  disloyal  Indian  agents  had 
surrendered  United  States  property  to  the  enemy. 
The  war  which  followed  resembled  the  guerrilla  con- 
flicts of  Kansas,  with  the  addition  of  the  Indian  ele- 
ment. 

By  no  means  all  the  Indians  accepted  the  con- 
federate control.  When  the  Indian  Territory  forts 
—  Gibson,  Arbuckle,  Washita,  and  Cobb  —  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  South,  joyal  Indians  left  their 
homes  and  sought  protection  within  the  United 
States  lines.  Almost  the  only  way  to  fight  a  war  in 
which  a  population  is  generally  divided,  is  by  means 
of  depopulation  and  concentration.  Along  the 
Verdigris  River,  in  southeast  Kansas,  these  Indian 
refugees  settled  in  1861  and  1862,  to  the  number  of 
6000.  Here  the  Indian  Commissioner  fed  them  as 
best  he  could,  and  organized  them  to  fight  when  that 
was  possible.  With  the  return  of  federal  success  in 
the  occupation  of  Fort  Smith  and  western  Arkansas 
during  the  next  two  years,  the  natives  began  to 
return  to  their  homes.  But  the  relation  of  their 


242  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

tribes  to  the  United  States  was  tainted.  The  com- 
pulsory cessiojo^Jheir  western  lands  which  came  at 
the  close  of  the  conflict  belongs  to  a  later  chapter  and 
the  beginnings  of  Oklahoma.  Here,  as  elsewhere, 
the  condition  of  the  tribes  was  permanently  changed. 
The  great  plains  and  the  Far  West  were  only  the 
outskirts  of  the  Civil  War.  At  no  time  did  they  shape 
its  course,  for  the  Civil  War  was,  from  their  point  of 
view,  only  an  incidental  sectional  contest  in  the  East, 
and  merely  an  episode  in  the  grander  development 
of  the  United  States.  The  way  is  opening  ever 
wider  for  the  historian  who  shall  see  in  this  matelial 
develop*^ 

thread  of  American  history,  and  in  accordance  with 
it,  retail  the  story.  But  (luring  the  years  of  sectional 
strife  the  West  was  occasionally  connected  with  the 
struggle,  while  toward  their  close  it  passed  rapidly 
into  a  period  in  which  it  came  to  be  the  admitted 
centre  of  interest.  The  last  stand  of  the  Indians 
against  the  onrush  of  settlement  is  a  warfare  with  an 
identity  of  its  own. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE    CHEYENNE   WAE 

IT  has  long  been  the  custom  to  attribute  the  dan- 
gerous restlessness  of  the  Indians  during  and  after  the 
Civil  War  to  the  evil  machinations  of  the  Confederacy. 
It  has  been  plausible  to  charge  that  agents  of  the 
South  passed  among  the  tribes,  inciting  them  to 
outbreak  by  pointing  out  the  preoccupation  of  the 
United  States  and  the  defencelessness  of  the  frontier. 
Popular  narratives  often  repeat  this  charge  when 
dealing  with  the  wars  and  depredations,  whether 
among  the  Sioux  of  Minnesota,  or  the  Northwest 
tribes,  or  the  Apache  and  Navaho,  or  the  Indians 
of  the  plains.  Indeed,  had  the  South  been  able  thus 
to  harass  the  enemy  it  is  not  improbable  that  it 
would  have  done  it.  It  is  not  impossible  that  it 
actually  did  it.  But  at  least  the  charge  has  not  been 
proved.  No  one  has  produced  direct  evidence  to 
show  the  existence  of  agents  or  their  connection  with 
the  Confederacy,  though  many  have  uttered  a  general 
belief  in  their  reality.  Investigators  of  single  affairs 
have  admitted,  regretfully,  their  inability  to  add 
incitement  of  Indians  to  the  charges  against  the 
South.  If  such  a  cause  were  needed  to  explain  the 
increasing  turbulence  of  the  tribes,  it  might  be  worth 

243 


.244  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

while  to  search  further  in  the  hope  of  establishing  it, 
but  nothing  occurred  in  these  wars  which  cannot  be 
accounted  for,  fully,  in  facts  easily  obtained  and 
well  authenticated. 

Before  1861  the  Indians_of^  the  West  were  com- 
monly ^olT  friendly  terms  with  the  United  States. 
Occasional  wars  broke  this  friendship,  and  frequent 
massacres  aroused  the  fears  of  one  frontier  or  another, 
for  the  Indian  was  an  irresponsible  child,  and  the 
frontiersman  was  reckless  and  inconsiderate.  But 
the  outbreaks  were  exceptional,  they  were  easily 
put  down,  and  peace  was  rarely  hard  to  obtain.  jBy 
1865  this  condition  had  changed  over  most  of  the 
West.  Warfare  had  become  systematic  and  widely 
spread.  The  frequency  and  similarity  of  outbreaks 
in  remote  districts  suggested  a  harmonious  plan,  or 
at  least  similar  reactions  from  similar  provocations. 
jYpml865,  forjieajriy  fivejyears,  these  wars  continued 
with  only  intervals  of  truce,  or  professed  peace ; 
while  during  a  long  period  after  1870,  when  most  of 
the  tribes  were  suppressed  and  well  policed,  upheav- 
als occurred  which  were  clearly  to  be  connected  with 
the  Indian  wars.  The  reality  of  this  transition  from 
peace  to  war  has  caused  many  to  charge  it  to  the 
South.  It  is,  however,  connected  with  the  culmina- 
tion of  the  westward  movement,  which  more  than  ex- 
plains it. 

For  a  setting  of  the  Indian  wars  some  restatement 
of  the  events  before  1861  is  needed.  By  1840  the 
agricultural  frontier  of  the  United  States  had  reached 


THE  CHEYENNE  WAR  245 

the  bend  of  the  Missouri,  while  the  Indian  tribes, 
with  plenty  of  room,  had  been  pushed  upon  the  plains. 
In  the  generation  following  appeared  the  heavy 
traffic  along  the  overland  trails,  the  advance  of  the 
frontier  into  the  new  Northwest,  and  the  Pacific 
railway  surveys.  Each  of  these  served  to  compress 
the  Indians  and  restrict  their  range.  Accompanying 
these  came  curtailing  of  reserves,  shifting  of  resi- 
dences to  less  desirable  grounds,  and  individual 
maltreatment  to  a  degree  which  makes  marvellous 
the  incapacity,  weakness,  and  patience  of  the  Indi- 
ans. Occasionally  they  struggled,  but  always  they 
lost.  The  scalped  and  mutilated  pioneer,  with 
his  haystacks  burning  and  his  stock  run  off,  is  a 
vivid  picture  in  the  period,  but  is  less  characteristic 
than  the  long-suffering  Indian,  accepting  the  inevi- 
table, and  moving  to  let  the  white  man  in. 

The  necessary  results  of  white  encroachment  were 
destruction  of  game  and  education  of  the  Indian  to 
the  luxuries  and  vices  of  the  white  man.  At  a  time 
when  starvation  was  threatening  because  of  the 
disappearance  of  the  buffalo  and  other  food  animals, 
he  became  aware  of  the  superior  diet  of  the  whites 
and  the  ease  with  which  robbery  could  be  accom- 
plished. In  the  fifties  the  pressure  continued,  heav- 
ier than  ever.  The  railway  surveys  reached  nearly 
every  corner  of  the  Indian  Country.  In  the  next 
few  years  came  the  prospectors  who  started  hundreds 
of  mining  camps  beyond  the  line  of  settlements, 
while  the  engineers  began  to  stick  the  advancing 


246  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

heads  of  railways  out  from  the  Missouri  frontier  and 
into  the  buffalo  range. 

Even  the  Indian  could  see  the  approaching  end. 
It  needed  no  confederate  envoy  to  assure  him  that 
the  United  States  could  be  attacked.  His  own 
hunger  and  the  white  peril  were  persuading  him  to 
defend  his  hunting-ground.  Yet  even  now,  in  the 
widespread  Indian  wars  of  the  later  sixties,  uni- 
formity of  action  came  without  much  previous 
cooperation.  A  general  Indian  league  against  the 
whites  was  never  raised.  The  general  war,  upon 
dissection  and  analysis,  breaks  up  into  a  multitude 
of  little  wars,  each  having  its  own  particular  causes, 
which,  in  many  instances,  if  the  word  of  the  most 
expert  frontiersmen  is  to  be  believed,  ran  back  into 
cases  of  white  aggression  and  Indian  revenge. 

The  Sioux  uprising  of  1862  came  a  little  ahead  of 
the  general  wars,  with  causes  rising  from  the  treaties 
of  Mendota  and  Traverse  des  Sioux  in  1851.  The 
plains  situation  had  been  clearly  seen  and  succinctly 
stated  in  this  year.  "We  are  constrained  to  say," 
wrote  the  men  who  made  these  treaties,  "that  in  our 
opinion  the  time  has  come  when  the  extinguishment 
of  the  Indian  title  to  this  region  should  no  longer  be 
delayed,  if  government  would  not  have  the  mortifi- 
cation, on  the  one  hand,  of  confessing  its  inability  to 
protect  the  Indian  from  encroachment;  or  be  sub- 
ject to  the  painful  necessity,  upon  the  other,  of 
ejecting  by  force  thousands  of  its  citizens  from  a 
land  which  they  desire  to  make  their  homes,  and 


THE   CHEYENNE   WAR  247 

which,  without  their  occupancy  and  labor,  will  be 
comparatively  useless  and  waste."  The  other  trea- 
ties concluded  in  this  same  year  at  Fort  Laramie 
were  equally  the  fountains  of  discontent  which 
boiled  over  in  the  early  sixties  and  gave  rise  at 
last  to  one  of  the  most  horrible  incidents  of  the 
plains  war. 

In  the  Laramie  treaties  the  first  serious  attempt 
to  partition  the  plains  among  the  tribes  was  made. 
The  lines  agreed  upon  recognized  existing  conditions 
to  a  large  extent,  while  annuities  were  pledged  in  con- 
sideration of  which  the  savages  agreed  to  stay  at 
peace,  to  allow  free  migration  along  the  trails,  and 
to  keep  within  their  boundaries.  The  Sioux  here 
agreed  that  they  belonged  north  of  the  Platte.  The 
Arapaho  and  Cheyenne  recognized  their  area  as 
lying  between  the  Platte  and  the  Arkansas,  the  moun- 
tains and,  roughly,  the  hundred  and  first  meridian. 
For  ten  years  after  these  treaties  the  last-named 
tribes  kept  the  faith  to  the  exclusion  of  attacks  upon 
settlers  or  emigrants.  They  even  allowed  the  Senate 
in  its  ratification  of  the  treaty  to  reduce  the  term  of 
the  annuities  from  fifty  years  to  fifteen. 

In  a  way,  the  Arapaho  and  Cheyenne  Indians 
lay  off  the  beaten  tracks  and  apart  from  contact  with 
the  whites.  Their  home  was  in  the  triangle  between 
the  great  trails,  with  a  mountain  wall  behind  them 
that  offered  almost  insuperable  obstacles  to  those 
who  would  cross  the  continent  through  their  domain. 
The  Gunnison  railroad  survey,  which  was  run  along 


248  THE   LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

the  thirty-ninth  parallel  and  through  the  Cochetopa 
Pass,  revealed  the  difficulty  of  penetrating  the  range 
at  this  point.  Accordingly,  a  decade  which  built  up 
Oregon  and  California  made  little  impression  on  this 
section  until  in  1858  gold  was  discovered  in  Cherry 
Creek.  Then  came  the  deluge. 

Nearly  one  hundred  thousand  miners  and  hangers- 
on  crossed  the  plains  to  the  Pike's  Peak  country  in 
1859  and  settled  unblushingly  in  the  midst  of  the 
Indian  lands.  They  "  possessed  nothing  more  than 
the  right  of  transit  over  these  lands,"  admitted  the 
Peace  Commissioners  in  1868.  Yet  they  "took 
possession  of  them  for  the  purpose  of  mining,  and, 
against  the  protest  of  the  Indians,  founded  cities, 
established  farms,  and  opened  roads.  Before  1861 
the  Cheyenne  and  Arapaho  had  been  driven  from 
the  mountain  regions  down  upon  the  waters  of 
the  Arkansas,  and  were  becoming  sullen  and  dis- 
contented because  of  this  violation  of  their  rights." 
The  treaty  of  1851  had  guaranteed  the  Indians  in 
their  possession,  pledging  the  United  States  to  pre- 
vent depredations  by  the  whites,  but  here,  as  in  most 
similar  cases,  the  guarantees  had  no  weight  in  the 
face  of  a  population  under  way.  The  Indians  were 
brushed  aside,  the  United  States  agents  made  no 
real  attempts  to  enforce  the  treaty,  and  within  a  few 
months  the  settlers  were  demanding  protection 
against  the  surrounding  tribes.  "The  Indians  saw 
their  former  homes  and  hunting  grounds  overrun  by  a 
greedy  population,  thirsting  for  gold,"  continued  the 


THE  CHEYENNE   WAR  249 

Commissioners.  "They  saw  their  game  driven  east 
to  the  plains,  and  soon  found  themselves  the  objects 
of  jealousy  and  hatred.  They  too  must  go.  The 
presence  of  the  injured  is  too  often  painful  to  the 
wrong-doer,  and  innocence  offensive  to  the  eyes  of 
guilt.  It  now  became  apparent  that  what  had  been 
taken  by  force  must  be  retained  by  the  ravisher, 
and  nothing  was  left  for  the  Indian  but  to  ratify  a 
treaty  consecrating  the  act." 

Instead  of  a  war  of  revenge  in  which  the  Arapaho 
and  Cheyenne  strove  to  defend  their  lands  and  to 
drive  out  the  intruders,  a  war  in  which  the  United 
States  ought  to  have  cooperated  with  the  Indians, 
a  treaty  of  cession  followed.  On  February  18,  1861, 
at  Fort  Wise,  which  was  the  new  name  for  Bent's 
old  fort  on  the  Arkansas,  an  agreement  was  signed 
by  which  these  tribes  gave  up  much  of  the  great  range 
reserved  for  them  in  1851,  and  accepted  in  its  place, 
with  what  were  believed  to  be  greater  guarantees,  a 
triangular  tract  bounded,  east  and  northeast,  by 
Sand  Creek,  in  eastern  Colorado;  on  the  south  by 
the  Arkansas  and  Purgatory  rivers;  and  extending 
west  some  ninety  miles  from  the  junction  of  Sand 
Creek  and  the  Arkansas.  The  cessions  made  by  the 
Ute  on  the  other  side  of  the  range,  not  long  after 
this,  are  another  part  of  the  same  story  of  mining 
aggression.  The  new  Sand  Creek  reserve  was  de- 
signed to  remove  the  Arapaho  and  Cheyenne  from 
under  the  feet  of  the  restless  prospectors.  For  years 
they  had  kept  the  peace  in  the  face  of  great  provo- 


250  THE   LAST   AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

cation.  For  three  years  more  they  put  up  with  white 
encroachment  before  their  war  began. 

The  Colorado  miners,  like  those  of  the  other  boom 
camps,  had  been  loud  in  their  demand  for  transporta- 
tion. To  satisfy  this,  overland  traffic  had  been 
organized  on  a  large  scale,  while  during  1862  the 
stage  and  freight  service  of  the  plains  fell  under  the 
control  of  Ben  Holladay.  Early  in  August,  1864, 
Holladay  was  nearly  driven  out  of  business.  About 
the  10th  of  the  month,  simultaneous  attacks  were 
made  along  his  mail  line  from  the  Little  Blue  River 
to  within  eighty  miles  of  Denver.  In  the  forays, 
stations  were  sacked  and  burned,  isolated  farms  were 
wiped  out,  small  parties  on  the  trails  were  destroyed. 
At  Ewbank  Station,  a  family  of  ten  "was  massacred 
and  scalped,  and  one  of  the  females,  besides  having 
suffered  the  latter  inhuman  barbarity,  was  pinned  to 
the  earth  by  a  stake  thrust  through  her  person,  in  a 
most  revolting  manner;  ...  at  Plum  Creek  .  .  . 
nine  persons  were  murdered,  their  train,  consisting 
of  ten  wagons,  burnt,  and  two  women  and  two  chil- 
dren captured.  .  .  .  The  old  Indian  traders  .  .  . 
and  the  settlers  .  .  .  abandoned  their  habitations." 
For  a  distance  of  370  miles,  Holladay's  general  super- 
intendent declared,  every  ranch  but  one  was  "de- 
serted and  the  property  abandoned  to  the  Indians." 

Fifteen  years  after  the  destruction  of  his  stations, 
Holladay  was  still  claiming  damages  from  the  United 
States  and  presenting  affidavits  from  his  men  which 
revealed  the  character  of  the  attacks.  George  H. 


THE  CHEYENNE   WAR  251 

Carlyle  told  how  his  stage  was  chased  by  Indians  for 
twenty  miles,  how  he  had  helped  to  bury  the  muti- 
lated bodies  of  the  Plum  Creek  victims,  and  how 
within  a  week  the  route  had  to  be  abandoned,  and 
every  ranch  from  Fort  Kearney  to  Julesburg  was 
deserted.  The  division  agent  told  how  property 
had  been  lost  in  the  hurried  flight.  To  save  some  of 
the  stock,  fodder  and  supplies  had  to  be  sacrificed,  — 
hundreds  of  sacks  of  corn,  scores  of  tons  of  hay, 
besides  the  buildings  and  their  equipment.  Nowhere 
were  the  Indians  overbold  in  their  attacks.  In  small 
bands  they  waited  their  time  to  take  the  stations  by 
surprise.  Well-armed  coaches  'might  expect  to  get 
through  with  little  more  than  a  few  random  shots, 
but  along  the  hilltops  they  could  often  see  the  savages 
waiting  in  safety  for  them  to  pass.  Indian  warfare 
was  not  one  of  organized  bodies  and  formal  ma- 
noeuvres. Only  when  cornered  did  the  Indian 
stand  to  fight.  But  in  wild,  unexpected  descents 
the  tribes  fell  upon  the  lines  of  communication, 
reducing  the  frontier  to  an  abject  terror  overnight. 
The  destruction  of  the  stage  route  was  not  the  first, 
though  it  was  the  most  general  hostility  which 
marked  the  commencement  of  a  new  Indian  war. 
Since  the  spring  of  1864  events  had  occurred  which 
in  the  absence  of  a  more  rigorous  control  than  the 
Indian  Department  possessed,  were  likely  to  lead  to 
trouble.  The  Cheyenne  had  been  dissatisfied  with 
the  Fort  Wise  treaty  ever  since  its  conclusion.  The 
Sioux  were  carrying  on  a  prolonged  war.  The 


252  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Arapaho,  Comanche,  and  Kiowa  were  ready  to  be 
started  on  the  war-path.  It  was  the  old  story  of 
too  much  compression  and  isolated  attacks  going 
unpunished.  Whatever  the  merits  of  an  original 
controversy,  the  only  way  to  keep  the  savages  under 
control  was  to  make  fair  retribution  follow  close  upon 
the  commission  of  an  outrage.  But  the  punishment 
needed  to  be  fair. 

In  April,  1864,  a  ranchman  named  Ripley  came 
into  one  of  the  camps  on  the  South  Platte  and  de- 
clared that  some  Indians  had  stolen  his  stock.  Per- 
haps his  statement  was  true ;  but  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  the  ranchman  whose  stock  strayed  away 
was  prone  to  charge  theft  against  the  Indians,  and 
that  there  is  only  Ripley 's  own  word  that  he  ever 
had  any  stock.  Captain  Sanborn,  commanding,  sent 
out  a  troop  of  cavalry  to  recover  the  animals.  They 
came  upon  some  Indians  with  horses  which  Ripley 
claimed  as  his,  and  in  an  attempt  to  disarm  them,  a 
fight  occurred  in  which  the  troop  was  driven  off. 
Their  lieutenant  thought  the  Indians  were  Cheyenne. 

A  few  weeks  after  this,  Major  Jacob  Downing, 
who  had  been  in  Camp  Sanborn  inspecting  troops, 
came  into  Denver  and  got  from  Colonel  Chivington 
about  forty  men,  with  whom  "to  go  against  the 
Indians."  Downing  later  swore  that  he  found  the 
Cheyenne  village  at  Cedar  Bluffs.  "We  commenced 
shooting;  I  ordered  the  men  to  commence  killing 
them.  .  .  .  They  lost  .  .  .  some  twenty-six  killed 
and  thirty  wounded.  ...  I  burnt  up  their  lodges  and 


THE  CHEYENNE   WAR  253 

everything  I  could  get  hold  of.  ...  We  captured 
about  one  hundred  head  of  stock,  which  was  dis- 
tributed among  the  boys." 

On  the  12th  of  June,  a  family  living  on  Box  Elder 
Creek,  twenty  miles  east  of  Denver,  was  murdered 
by  the  Indians.  Hungate,  his  wife,  and  two  children 
were  killed,  the  house  burned,  and  fifty  or  sixty  head 
of  stock  run  off.  When  the  "  scalped  and  horribly 
mangled  bodies"  were  brought  into  Denver,  the 
population,  already  uneasy,  was  thrown  into  panic  by 
this  appearance  of  danger  so  close  to  the  city.  Gov- 
ernor Evans  began  at  once  to  organize  the  militia  for 
home  defence  and  to  appeal  to  Washington  for  help. 

By  the  time  of  the  attack  upon  the  stage  line  it 
was  clear  that  an  Indian  war  existed,  involving  in 
varying  degrees  parts  of  the  Arapaho,  Cheyenne, 
Comanche,  and  Kiowa  tribes.  The  merits  of  the 
causes  which  provoked  it  were  considerably  in  doubt. 
On  the  frontier  t'here  was  no  hesitation  in  charging 
it  all  to  the  innate  savagery  of  the  tribes.  Governor 
Evans  was  entirely  satisfied  that  "while  some  of  the 
Indians  might  yet  be  friendly,  there  was  no  hope  of  a 
general  peace  on  the  plains,  until  after  a  severe 
chastisement  of  the  Indians  for  these  depredations." 

In  restoring  tranquillity  the  frontier  had  to  rely 
largely  upon  its  own  resources.  Its  own  Second 
Colorado  was  away  doing  duty  in  the  Missouri  cam- 
paign, while  the  eastern  military  situation  presented 
no  probability  of  troops  being  available  to  help  out 
the  West.  Colonel  Chivington  and  Governor  John 


254  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

Evans,  with  the  long-distance  aid  of  General  Curtis, 
were  forced  to  make  their  own  plans  and  execute 
them. 

As  early  as  June,  Governor  Evans  began  his  cor- 
rective measures,  appealing  first  to  Washington  for 
permission  to  raise  extra  troops,  and  then  endeavor- 
ing to  separate  the  friendly  and  warlike  Indians  in 
order  that  the  former  "should  not  fall  victims  to  the 
impossibility  of  soldiers  discriminating  between  them 
and  the  hostile,  upon  whom  they  must,  to  do  any 
good,  inflict  the  most  severe  chastisement/'  To 
this  end,  and  with  the  consent  of  the  Indian  Depart- 
ment, he  sent  out  a  proclamation,  addressed  to  "the 
friendly  Indians  of  the  Plains,"  directing  them  to 
keep  away  from  those  who  were  at  war,  and  as  evi- 
dence of  friendship  to  congregate  around  the  agencies 
for  safety.  Forts  Lyons,  Laramie,  Larned,  and 
Camp  Collins  were  designated  as  concentration 
points  for  the  several  tribes.  "None  but  those  who 
intend  to  be  friendly  with  the  whites  must  come  to 
these  places.  The  families  of  those  who  have  gone 
to  war  with  the  whites  must  be  kept  away  from 
among  the  friendly  Indians.  The  war  on  hostile 
Indians  will  be  continued  until  they  are  all  effectually 
subdued."  The  Indians,  frankly  at  war,  paid  no 
attention  to  this  invitation.  Two  small  bands  only 
sought  the  cover  of  the  agencies,  and  with  their 
exception,  so  Governor  Evans  reported  on  October 
15,  the  proclamation  "met  no  response  from  any  of 
the  Indians  of  the  plains." 


THE  CHEYENNE   WAR  "  255 

The  war  parties  became  larger  and  more  general 
as  the  summer  advanced,  driving  whites  off  the  plains 
between  the  two  trails  for  several  hundred  miles.  But 
as  fall  approached,  the  tribes  as  usual  sought  peace. 
The  Indians'  time  for  war  was  summer.  Without 
supplies,  they  were  unable  to  fight  through  the  win- 
ter, so  that  autumn  brought  them  into  a  mood  well 
disposed  to  peace,  reservations,  and  government 
rations.  Major  Colley,  the  agent  on  the  Sand  Creek 
reserve  at  Fort  Lyon,  received  an  overture  early  in 
September.  In  a  letter  written  for  them  on  August 
29,  by  a  trader,  Black  Kettle,  of  the  Cheyenne,  and 
other  chiefs  declared  their  readiness  to  make  a  peace 
if  all  the  tribes  were  included  in  it.  As  an  olive 
branch,they  offered  to  give  up  seven  white  prisoners. 
They  admitted  that  five  war  parties,  three  Cheyenne 
and  two  Arapaho,  were  yet  in  the  field. 

Upon  receipt  of  Black  Kettle's  letter,  Major  E. 
W.  Wynkoop,  military  commander  at  Fort  Lyon, 
marched  with  130  men  to  the  Cheyenne  camp  at 
Bend  of  Timbers,  some  eighty  miles  northeast  of 
Fort  Lyons.  Here  he  found  "from  six  to  eight 
hundred  Indian  warriors  drawn  up  in  line  of  battle 
and  prepared  to  fight."  He  avoided  fighting,  de- 
manded and  received  the  prisoners,  and  held  a  coun- 
cil with  the  chiefs.  Here  he  told  them  that  he  had 
no  authority  to  conclude  a  peace,  but  offered  to  con- 
duct, a  group  of  chiefs  to  Denver,  for  a  conference 
with  Governor  Evans. 

On  September  28,  Governor  Evans  held  a  council 


256  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

with  the  Cheyenne  and  Arapaho  chiefs  brought  in 
by  Major  Wynkoop ;  Black  Kettle  and  White  An- 
telope being  the  most  important.  Black  Kettle 
opened  the  conference  with  an  appeal  to  the  governor 
in  which  he  alluded  to  his  delivery  of  the  prisoners 
and  Wynkoop's  invitation  to  visit  Denver.  "We 
have  come  with  our  eyes  shut,  following  his  handful 
of  men,  like  coming  through  the  fire/'  Black  Kettle 
went  on.  "All  we  ask  is  that  we  may  have  peace 
with  the  whites.  We  want  to  hold  you  by  the  hand. 
You  are  our  father.  We  have  been  travelling 
through  a  cloud.  The  sky  has  been  dark  ever  since 
the  war  began.  These  braves  who  are  with  me  are 
all  willing  to  do  what  I  say.  We  want  to  take  good 
tidings  home  to  our  people,  that  they  may  sleep  in 
peace.  I  want  you  to  give  all  these  chiefs  of  the  sol- 
diers here  to  understand  that  we  are  for  peace,  and 
that  we  have  made  peace,  that  we  may  not  be  mis- 
taken by  them  for  enemies."  To  him  Governor 
Evans  responded  that  this  submission  was  a  long  time 
coming,  and  that  the  nation  had  gone  to  war,  refus- 
ing to  listen  to  overtures  of  peace.  This  Black  Ket- 
tle admitted. 

"So  far  as  making  a  treaty  now  is  concerned," 
continued  Governor  Evans,  "we  are  in  no  condition 
to  do  it.  .  .  .  You,  so  far,  have  had  the  advantage;  but 
the  time  is  near  at  hand  when  the  plains  will  swarm 
with  United  States  soldiers.  I  have  learned  that 
you  understand  that  as  the  whites  are  at  war  among 
themselves,  you  think  you  can  now  drive  the  whites 


THE  CHEYENNE  WAR  257 

from  this  country;  but  this  reliance  is  false.  The 
Great  Father  at  Washington  has  men  enough  to  drive 
all  the  Indians  off  the  plains,  and  whip  the  rebels 
at 'the  same  time.  Now  the  war  with  the  whites  is 
nearly  through,  and  the  Great  Father  will  not 
know  what  to  do  with  all  his  soldiers,  except  to  send 
them  after  the  Indians  on  the  plains.  My  proposi- 
tion to  the  friendly  Indians  has  gone  out;  [I]  shall  be 
glad  to  have  them  all  come  in  under  it.  I  have  no 
new  proposition  to  make.  Another  reason  that  I  am 
not  in  a  condition  to  make  a  treaty  is  that  war  is 
begun,  and  the  power  to  make  a  treaty  of  peace  has 
passed  to  the  great  war  chief."  He  further  coun- 
selled them  to  make  terms  with  the  military  authori- 
ties before  they  could  hope  to  talk  of  peace.  No  pros- 
pect of  an  immediate  treaty  was  given  to  the  chiefs. 
Evans  disclaimed  further  powers,  and  Colonel  Chiv- 
ington  closed  the  council,  saying:  "I  am  not  a  big 
war  chief,  but  all  the  soldiers  in  this  country  are  at  my 
command.  My  rule  of  fighting  white  men  or  Ind- 
ians is  to  fight  them  until  they  lay  down  their  arms 
and  submit. "  The  same  evening  came  a  despatch 
from  Major-general  Curtis,  at  Fort  Leavenworth, 
confirming  the  non-committal  attitude  of  Evans  and 
Chivington:  "I  want  no  peace  till  the  Indians 
suffer  more.  ...  I  fear  Agent  of  the  Interior  Depart- 
ment will  be  ready  to  make  presents  too  soon.  .  .  . 
No  peace  must  be  made  without  my  directions. " 

The  chiefs  were  escorted  home  without  their  peace 
or  any  promise  of  it,  Governor  Evans  believing  that 


258  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

the  great  body  of  the  tribes  was  still  hostile,  and  that 
a  decisive  winter  campaign  was  needed  to  destroy 
their  lingering  notion  that  the  whites  might  be  driven 
from  the  plains.  Black  Kettle  had  been  advised  at 
the  council  to  surrender  to  the  soldiers,  Major  Wyn- 
koop  at  Fort  Lyon  being  mentioned  as  most  avail- 
able. Many  of  his  tribe  acted  on  the  suggestion,  so 
that  on  October  20  Agent  Colley,  their  constant 
friend,  reported  that  "  nearly  all  the  Arapahoes  are 
now  encamped  near  this  place  and  desire  to  re- 
main friendly,  and  make  reparation  for  the  damages 
committed  by  them." 

The  Indians  unquestionably  were  ready  to  make 
peace  after  their  fashion  and  according  to  their 
ability.  There  is  no  evidence  that  they  were  recon- 
ciled to  their  defeat,  but  long  experience  had  ac- 
customed them  to  fighting  in  the  summer  and  draw- 
ing rations  as  peaceful  in  the  winter.  The  young 
men,  in  part,  were  still  upon  the  war-path,  but  the 
tribes  and  the  head  chiefs  were  anxious  to  go  upon  a 
winter  basis.  Their  interpreter  who  had  attended 
the  conference  swore  that  they  left  Denver,  ''per- 
fectly contented,  deeming  that  the  matter  was  set- 
tled," that  upon  their  return  to  Fort  Lyon,  Major 
Wynkoop  gave  them  permission  to  bring  their  fam- 
ilies in  under  the  fort  where  he  could  watch  them 
better;  and  that  " accordingly  the  chiefs  went  after 
their  families  and  villages  and  brought  them  in, 
.  .  .  satisfied  that  they  were  in  perfect  security  and 
safety." 


THE  CHEYENNE   WAR  259 

While  the  Indians  gathered  around  the  fort, 
Major  Wynkoop  sent  to  General  Curtis  for  advice 
and  orders  respecting  them.  Before  the  orders  ar- 
rived, however,  he  was  relieved  from  command  and 
Major  Scott  J.  Anthony,  of  the  First  Colorado  Cav- 
alry, was  detailed  in  his  place.  After  holding  a  con- 
ference with  the  Indians  and  Anthony,  in  which 
the  latter  renewed  the  permission  for  the  bands  to 
camp  near  the  fort,  he  left  Fort  Lyons  on  November 
26.  Anthony  meanwhile  had  become  convinced  that 
he  was  exceeding  his  authority.  First  he  disarmed 
the  savages,  receiving  only  a  few  old  and  worn-out 
weapons.  Then  he  returned  these  and  ordered  the 
Indians  away  from  Fort  Lyons.  They  moved  forty 
miles  away  and  encamped  on  Sand  Creek. 

The  Colorado  authorities  had  no  idea  of  calling  it 
a  peace.  Governor  Evans  had  scolded  Wynkoop 
for  bringing  the  chiefs  in  to  Denver.  He  had  re- 
ceived special  permission  and  had  raised  a  hundred- 
day  regiment  for  an  Indian  campaign.  If  he  should 
now  make  peace,  Washington  would  think  he  had 
misrepresented  the  situation  and  put  the  govern- 
ment to  needless  expense.  "What  shall  I  do  with 
the  third  regiment,  if  I  make  peace  ?"  he  demanded 
of  Wynkoop.  They  were  "raised  to  kill  Indians, 
and  they  must  kill  Indians." 

Acting  on  the  supposition  that  the  war  was  still  on, 
Colonel  Chivington  led  the  Third  Colorado,  and  a 
part  of  the  First  Colorado  Cavalry,  from  900  to  1000 
strong,  to  Fort  Lyons  in  November,  arriving  two 


260  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

days  after  Wynkoop  departed.  He  picketed  the 
fort,  to  prevent  the  news  of  his  arrival  from  getting 
out,  and  conferred  on  the  situation  with  Major 
Anthony,  who,  swore  Major  Downing,  wished  he 
would  attack  the  Sand  Creek  camp  and  would  have 
done  so  himself  had  he  possessed  troops  enough. 
Three  days  before,  Anthony  had  given  a  present  to 
Black  Kettle  out  of  his  own  pocket.  As  the  result  of 
the  council  of  war,  Chivington  started  from  Fort 
Lyon  at  nine  o'clock,  on  the  night  of  the  28th. 

About  daybreak  on  November  29  Chivington's 
force  reached  the  Cheyenne  village  on  Sand  Creek, 
where  Black.  Kettle,  White  Antelope,  and  some 
500  of  their  band,  mostly  women  and  children, 
were  encamped  in  the  belief  that  they  had  made 
their  peace.  They  had  received  no  pledge  of  this, 
but  past  practice  explained  their  confidence.  The 
village  was  surrounded  by  troops  who  began  to  fire 
as  soon  as  it  was  light.  "We  killed  as  many  as  we 
could;  the  village  was  destroyed  and  burned,"  de- 
clared Downing,  who  further  professed,  "I  think 
and  earnestly  believe  the  Indians  to  be  an  obstacle  to 
civilization,  and  should  be  exterminated."  White 
Antelope  was  killed  at  the  first  attack,  refusing  to 
leave  the  field,  stating  that  it  was  the  fault  of  Black 
Kettle,  others,  and  himself  that  occasioned  the  mas- 
sacre, and  that  he  would  die.  Black  Kettle,  refusing 
to  leave  the  field,  was  carried  off  by  his  young  men. 
The  latter  had  raised  an  American  flag  and  a  white 
flag  in  his  effort  to  stop  the  fight. 


THE  CHEYENNE  WAR  261 

The  firing  began,  swore  interpreter  Smith,  on 
the  northeast  side  of  Sand  Creek,  near  Black  Ket- 
tle's lodge.  Driven  thence,  the  disorderly  horde  of 
savages  retreated  to  War  Bonnet's  lodge  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  village,  some  few  of  them  armed  but  most 
making  no  resistance.  Up  the  dry  bottom  of  Sand 
Creek  they  ran,  with  the  troops  in  wild  charge  close 
behind.  In  the  hollows  of  the  banks  they  sought 
refuge,  but  the  soldiers  dragged  them  out,  killing 
seventy  or  eighty  with  the  worst  barbarities  Smith 
had  seen:  "All  manner  of  depredations  were  in- 
flicted on  their  persons;  they  were  scalped,  their 
brains  knocked  out;  the  men  used  their  knives, 
ripped  open  women,  clubbed  little  children,  knocked 
them  in  the  head  with  their  guns,  beat  their  brains 
out,  mutilated  their  bodies  in  every  sense  of  the 
word."  The  affidavits  of  soldiers  engaged  in  the 
attack  are  printed  in  the  government  documents. 
They  are  too  disgusting  to  be  more  than  referred  to 
elsewhere. 

Here  at  last  was  the  culmination  of  the  plains  war 
of  1864  in  the  "  Chivington  massacre,"  which  has  been 
the  centre  of  bitter  controversy  ever  since  its  heroes 
marched  into  Denver  with  their  bloody  trophies.  It 
was  without  question  Indian  fighting  at  its  worst,  yet 
it  was  successful  in  that  the  Indian  hostilities  stopped 
and  a  new  treaty  was  easily  obtained  by  the  whites 
in  1865._  The  East  denounced  Chivington,  and  the 
Indian  Commissioner  described  the  event  in  1865  as 
a  butchery  "in  cold  blood  by  troops  in  the  service  of 


262  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

the  United  States."  "  Comment  cannot  magnify 
the  horror/'  said  the  Nation.  The  heart  of  the  ques- 
tion had  to  do  with  the  matter  of  good  faith.  At  no 
time  did  the  military  or  Colorado  authorities  admit 
or  even  appear  to  admit  that  the  war  was  over. 
They  regarded  the  campaign  as  punitive  and  neces- 
sary for  the  foundation  of  a  secure  peace.  The  Ind- 
ians, on  the  other  hand,  believed  that  they  had  sur- 
rendered and  were  anxious  to  be  let  alone.  Too  often 
their  wish  in  similar  cases  had  been  gratified,  to  the 
prolongation  of  destructive  wars.  What  here  oc- 
curred was  horrible  from  any  standard  of  civilized 
criticism.  But  even  among  civilized  nations  war  is 
an  unpleasant  thing,  and  war  with  savages  is  most 
merciful,  in  the  long  run,  when  it  speaks  the  savages' 
own  tongue  with  no  uncertain  accent.  That  such 
extreme  measures  could  occur  was  the  result  of  the 
impossible  situation  on  the  plains.  "My  opinion," 
said  Agent  Colley,  "is  that  white  men  and  wild 
Indians  cannot  live  in  the  same  country  in  peace." 
With  several  different  and  diverging  authorities  over 
them,  with  a  white  population  wanting  their  reserves 
and  anxious  for  a  provocation  that  might  justify  re- 
taliation upon  them,  little  difficulties  were  certain  to 
lead  to  big  results.  It  was  true  that  the  tribes  were 
being  dispossessed  of  lands  which  they  believed  to  be- 
long to  them.  It  was  equally  true  that  an  Indian  war 
could  terrify  a  whole  frontier  and  that  stern  repres- 
sion was  its  best  cure.  The  blame  which  was  ac- 
corded to  Chivington  left  out  of  account  the  terror  in 


THE  CHEYENNE  WAR  263 

Colorado,  which  was  no  less  real  because  the  whites 
were  the  aggressors.  The  slaughter  and  mutilation 
of  Indian  women  and  children  did  much  to  embitter 
Eastern  critics,  who  did  not  realize  that  the  only  way 
to  crush  an  Indian  war  is  to  destroy  the  base  of  sup- 
plies, —  the  camp  where  the  women  are  busy  help- 
ing to  keep  the  men  in  the  field ;  and  who  overlooked 
also  the  fact  that  in  the  melee  the  squaws  were  quite 
as  dangerous  as  the  bucks.  Indiscriminate  blame 
and  equally  indiscriminate  praise  have  been  accorded 
because  of  the  Sand  Creek  affair.  The  terrible 
event  was  the  result  of  the  orderly  working  of  causes 
over  which  individuals  had  little  control. 

In  October,  1865,  a  peace  conference  was  held  on 
the  Little  Arkansas  at  which  terms  were  agreed 
upon  with  Apache,  Kiowa  and  Comanche,  Arapaho 
and  Cheyenne,  while  the  last  named  surrendered 
their  reserve  at  Sand  Creek.  For  four  years  after 
this,  owing  to  delays  in  the  Senate  and  ambiguity 
in  the  agreements,  they  had  no  fixed  abode.  Later 
they  were  given  room  in  the  India" 
taken  from  the  civilized  tribes. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   SIOUX  WAR 

THE  struggle  for  the  possession  of  the  plains  worked 
the  displacement  of  the  Indian  tribes.  At  the  be- 
ginning, the  invasion  of  Kansas  had  undone  the  work 
accomplished  in  erecting  the  Indian  frontier.  The 
occupation  of  Minnesota  led  surely  to  the  downfall 
and  transportation  of  the  Sioux  of  the  Mississippi. 
Gold  in  Colorado  attracted  multitudes  who  made 
peace  impossible  for  the  Indians  of  the  southern 
plains.  The  Sioux  of  the  northern  plains  came  within 
the  influence  of  the  overland  march  in  the  same  years 
with  similar  results. 

The  northern  Sioux,  commonly  known  as  the  Sioux 
of  the  plains,  and  distinguished  from  their  relatives 
the  Sioux  of  the  Mississippi,  had  participated  in  the 
treaty  of  Fort  Laramie  in  1851,  had  granted  rights 
of  transit  to  the  whites,  and  had  been  recognized 
themselves  as  nomadic  bands  occupying  the  plains 
north  of  the  Platte  River.  Heretofore  they  had  had 
no  treaty  relations  with  the  United  States,  being  far 
beyond  the  frontier.  Their  people,  16,000  perhaps, 
were  grouped  roughly  in  various  bands :  Brule", 
Yankton,  Yanktonai,  Blackfoot,  Hunkpapa,  Sans 

264 


THE  SIOUX  WAR  265 

Arcs,  and  Miniconjou.  Their  dependence  on  the 
chase  made  them  more  dependent  on  the  annuities 
provided  them  at  Laramie.  As  the  game  diminished 
the  annuity  increased  in  relative  importance,  and 
scarcely  made  a  fair  equivalent  for  what  they  lost. 
Yet  on  the  whole,  they  imitated  their  neighbors,  the 
Cheyenne  and  Arapaho,  and  kept  the  peace. 

Almost  the  only  time  that  the  pledge  was  broken 
was  in  the  autumn  of  1854.  Continual  trains  of 
immigrants  passing  through  the  Sioux  country  made 
it  nearly  impossible  to  prevent  friction  between  the 
races  in  which  the  blame  was  quite  likely  to  fall  upon 
the  timorous  homeseekers.  On  August  17,  1854,  a 
cow  strayed  away  from  a  band  of  Mormons  encamped 
a  few  miles  from  Fort  Laramie.  Some  have  it  that 
the  cow  was  lame,  and  therefore  abandoned;  but 
whatever  the  cause,  the  cow  was  found,  killed,  and 
eaten  by  a  small  band  of  hungry  Miniconjou  Sioux. 
The  charge  of  theft  was  brought  into  camp  at  Lara- 
mie, not  by  the  Mormons,  but  by  The  Bear,  chief  of 
the  Brule,  and  Lieutenant  Grattan  with  an  escort  of 
twenty-nine  men,  a  twelve-pounder  and  a  mountain 
howitzer,  was  sent  out  the  next  day  to  arrest  the 
Indian  who  had  slaughtered  the  animal.  At  the 
Indian  village  the  culprit  was  not  forthcoming, 
Grattan's  drunken  interpreter  roughened  a  diplo- 
macy which  at  best  was  none  too  tactful,  and  at  last 
the  troops  fired  into  the  lodge  which  was  said  to  con- 
tain the  offender.  No  one  of  the  troops  got  away 
from  the  enraged  Sioux,  who,  after  their  anger  had 


266  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

led  them  to  retaliate,  followed  it  up  by  plundering  the 
near-by  post  of  the  fur  company.  Commissioner 
Manypenny  believed  that  this  action  by  the  troops 
was  illegal  and  unnecessary  from  the  start,  since  the 
Mormons  could  legally  have  been  reimbursed  from 
the  Indian  funds  by  the  agent. 

No  general  war  followed  this  outbreak.  A  few 
braves  went  on  the  warpath  and  rumors  of  great 
things  reached  the  East,  but  General  Harney,  sent 
out  with  three  regiments  to  end  the  Sioux  war  in 

1855,  found  little  opposition  and  fought  only  one 
important  battle.     On   the   Little  Blue  Water,  in 
September,    1855,   he  fell  upon    Little  Thunder's 
band  of  Brule  Sioux  and  killed  or  wounded  nearly 
a  hundred  of  them.     There  is  some  doubt  whether 
this  band  had  anything  to  do  with  the  Grattan  epi- 
sode, or  whether  it  was  even  at  war,  but  the  defeat 
was,  as  Agent  Twiss  described  it,  "  a  thunderclap 
to   them."     For  the  first    time    they  learned    the 
mighty  power  of  the  United  States,  and   General 
Harney  made  good  use  of  this  object  lesson  in  the 
peace  council  which  he  held  with  them  in  March, 

1856.  The  treaty  here   agreed  upon  was  never 
legalized,  and  remained  only  a  sort  of  modus  vivendi 
for  the  following  years.     The  Sioux  tribes  were  so 
loosely  organized  that  the  authority  of  the  chiefs 
had  little  weight;  young  braves  did  as  they  pleased 
regardless  of   engagements    supposed  to  bind  the 
tribes.     But  the  lesson  of  the  defeat  lasted  long  in 
the  memory  of  the  plains  tribes,  so  that  they  gave 


THE  SIOUX,  WAR  267 

little  trouble  until  the  wars  of  1864  broke  out. 
Meanwhile  Chouteau's  old  Fort  Pierre  on  the  Mis- 
souri was  bought  by  the  United  States  and  made 
a  military  post  for  the  control  of  these  upper  tribes. 

Before  the  plains  Sioux  broke  out  again,  the  Min- 
nesota uprising  had  led  the  Mississippi  Sioux  fo  their 
defeat.  Some  were  executed  in  the  fall  of  1862, 
others  were  transported  to  the  Missouri  Valley ;  still 
others  got  away  to  the  Northwest,  there  to  continue 
a  profitless  war  that  kept  up  fighting  for  several 
years.  Meanwhile  came  the  plains  war  of  1864  in 
which  the  tribes  south  of  the  Platte  were  chiefly 
concerned,  and  in  which  men  at  the  centre  of  the 
line  thought  there  were  evidences  of  an  alliance  be- 
tween northern  and  southern  tribes.  Thus  Gov- 
ernor Evans  wrote  of  "information  furnished  me, 
through  various  sources,  of  an  alliance  of  the  Chey- 
enne and  a  part  of  the  Arapahoe  tribes  with  the 
Comanche,  Kiowa,  and  Apache  Indians  of  the  south, 
and  the  great  family  of  the  Sioux  Indians  of  the  north 
upon  the  plains/'  and  the  Indian  Commissioner  ac- 
cepted the  notion.  But,  like  the  question  of  in- 
trigue, this  was  a  matter  of  belief  rather  than  of 
proof;  while  local  causes  to  account  for  the  disorder 
are  easily  found.  Yet  it  is  true  that  during  1864 
and  1865  the  northern  Sioux  became  uneasy. 

During  1865,  though  the  causes  likely  to  lead  to 
hostilities  were  in  no  wise  changed,  efforts  were  made 
to  reach  agreements  with  the  plains  tribes.  The 
Cheyenne,  humbled  at  Sand  Creek,  were  readily 


268  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

handled  at  the  Little  Arkansas  treaty  in  October. 
They  there  surrendered  to  the  United  States  all  their 
reserve  in  Colorado  and  accepted  a  new  one,  which 
they  never  actually  received,  south  of  the  Arkansas, 
and  bound  themselves  not  to  camp  within  ten  miles 
of  the  route  to  Sante  Fe.  On  the  other  side,  "to 
heal  the  wounds  caused  by  the  Chivington  affair," 
special  appropriations  were  made  by  the  United 
States  to  the  widows  and  orphans  of  those  who  had 
been  killed.  The  Apache,  Kiowa,  and  Comanche 
joined  in  similar  treaties.  During  the  same  week,  in 
1865,  a  special  commission  made  treaties  of  peace  with 
nine  of  the  Sioux  tribes,  including  the  remnants  of 
the  Mississippi  bands.  "  These  treaties  were  made/' 
commented  the  Commissioner,  "and  the  Indians,  in 
spite  of  the  great  suffering  from  cold  and  want  of 
food  endured  during  the  very  severe  winter  of  1865- 
66,  and  consequent  temptation  to  plunder  to  pro- 
cure the  absolute  necessaries  of  life,  faithfully  kept 
the  peace." 

In  September,  1865,  the  steamer  Calypso  struggled 
up  the  shallow  Missouri  River,  carrying  a  party  of 
commissioners  to  Fort  Sully,  there  to  make  these 
treaties  with  the  Sioux.  Congress  had  provided 
$20,000  for  a  special  negotiation  before  adjourning 
in  March,  1865,  and  General  Sully,  who  was  yet  con- 
ducting the  prolonged  Sioux  War,  had  pointed  out 
the  place  most  suitable  for  the  conference.  The  first 
council  was  held  on  October  6. 

The  military  authorities  were  far  from  eager  to  hold 


THE  SIOUX  WAR  269 

this  council.  Already  the  breach  between  the  mili- 
tary power  responsible  for  policing  the  plains  and 
the  civilian  department  which  managed  the  tribes 
was  wide.  Thus  General  Pope,  commanding  the 
Department  of  the  Missouri,  grumbled  to  Grant  in 
June  that  whenever  Indian  hostilities  occurred,  the 
Indian  Department,  which  was  really  responsible, 
blamed  the  soldiers  for  causing  them.  He  com- 
plained of  the  divided  jurisdiction  and  of  the  policy 
of  buying  treaties  from  the  tribes  by  presents  made 
at  the  councils.  In  reference  to  this  special  treaty 
he  had  "only  to  say  that  the  Sioux  Indians  have 
been  attacking  everybody  in  their  region  of  country; 
and  only  lately  .  .  .  attacked  in  heavy  force  Fort 
Rice,  on  the  upper  Missouri,  well  fortified  and  garri- 
soned by  four  companies  of  infantry  with  artillery. 
If  these  things  show  any  desire  for  peace,  I  confess 
I  am  not  able  to  perceive  it." 

In  future  years  this  breach  was  to  become  wider 
yet.  At  Sand  Creek  the  military  authorities  had 
justified  the  attack  against  the  criticism  of  the  local 
Indian  agents  and  Eastern  philanthropists.  There 
was  indeed  plenty  of  evidence  of  misconduct  on  both 
sides.  If  the  troops  were  guilty  on  the  charge  of  be- 
ing over-ready  to  fight — and  here  the  words  of  Gov- 
ernor Evans  were  prophetic,  "Now  the  war  ...  is 
nearly  through,  and  the  Great  Father  will  not  know 
what  to  do  with  all  his  soldiers,  except  to  send  them 
after  the  Indians  on  the  plains,"  —  the  Indian  agents 
often  succumbed  to  the  opportunity  for  petty  thiev- 


270  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

ing.  The  case  of  one  of  the  agents  of  the  Yank- 
ton  Sioux  illustrates  this.  It  was  his  custom  each 
year  to  have  the  chiefs  of  his  tribe  sign  general  re- 
ceipts for  everything  sent  to  the  agency.  Thus  at 
the  end  of  the  year  he  could  turn  in  Indians'  vouchers 
and  report  nothing  on  hand.  But  the  receipt  did  not 
mean  that  the  Indian  had  got  the  goods;  although 
signed  for,  these  were  left  in  the  hands  of  the  agent 
to  be  given  out  as  needed.  The  inference  is  strong 
that  many  of  the  supplies  intended  for  and  signed 
for  by  the  Indians  went  into  the  pocket  of  the  agent. 
During  the  third  quarter  of  1863  this  agent  claimed 
to  have  issued  to  his  charges :  "  One  pair  of  bay  horses, 
7  years  old;  ...  1  dozen  17-inch  mill  files;  ...  6 
dozen  Seidlitz  powders;  6  pounds  compound  syrup 
of  squills;  6  dozen  Ayer's  pills;  ...  3  bottles  of 
rose  water;  ...  1  pound  of  wax;  ...  1  ream  of 
vouchers;  .  .  .  J  M  6434  8|-inch  official  envelopes; 
...  4  bottles  8-ounce  mucilage."  So  great  was 
this  particular  agent's  power  that  it  was  nearly  im- 
possible to  get  evidence  against  him.  "If  I  do,  he 
will  fix  it  so  I'll  never  get  anything  in  the  world  and 
he  will  drive  me  out  of  the  country,"  was  typical  of 
the  attitude  of  his  neighbors. 

With  jurisdiction  divided,  and  with  claimants  for 
it  quarrelling,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  charges  suf- 
fered. But  the  ill  results  came  more  from  the  im- 
possible situation  than  from  abuse  on  either  side.  It 
needs  often  to  be  reiterated  that  the  heart  of  the 
Indian  question  was  in  the  infiltration  of  greedy, 


THE   SIOUX  WAR  271 

timorous,  enterprising,  land-hungry  whites  who  could 
not  be  restrained  by  any  process  known  to  Ameri- 
can government.  In  the  conflict  between  two  civil- 
izations, the  lower  must  succumb.  Neither  the 
War  Department  nor  the  Indian  Office  was  respon- 
sible for  most  of  the  troubles;  yet  of  the  two,  the 
former,  through  readiness  to  fight  and  to  hold  the 
savage  to  a  standard  of  warfare  which  he  could  not 
understand,  was  the  greater  offender.  It  was  not 
so  great  an  offender,  however,  as  the  selfish  interests 
of  those  engaged  in  trading  with  the  Indians  would 
make  it  out  to  be. 

The  Fort  Sully  conference,  terminating  in  a  treaty 
signed  on  October  10,  1865,  was  distinctly  un- 
satisfactory. Many  of  the  western  Sioux  did  not 
come  at  all.  Even  the  eastern  were  only  partially 
represented.  And  among  tribes  in  which  the  central 
authority  of  the  chiefs  was  weak,  full  representation 
was  necessary  to  secure  a  binding  peace.  The  com- 
missioners, after  most  pacific  efforts,  were  "  unable 
to  ascertain  the  existence  of  any  really  amicable 
feeling  among  these  people  towards  the  government/' 
The  chiefs  were  sullen  and  complaining,  and  the 
treaty  which  resulted  did  little  more  than  repeat 
the  terms  of  the  treaty  of  1851,  binding  the  Indians 
to  permit  roads  to  be  opened  through  their  country 
and  to  keep  away  from  the  trails. 

It  is  difficult  to  show  that  the  northern  Sioux  were 
bound  by  the  treaty  of  Fort  Sully.  The  Laramie 
treaty  of  1851  had  never  had  full  force  of  law  be- 


272  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

cause  the  Senate  had  added  amendments  to  it,  which 
all  the  signatory  Indians  had  not  accepted.  Al- 
though Congress  had  appropriated  the  annuities 
specified  in  the  treaty  the  binding  force  of  the  docu- 
ment was  not  great  on  savages.  The  Fort  Sully 
treaty  was  deficient  in  that  it  did  not  represent  all  of 
the  interested  tribes.  In  making  Indian  treaties  at 
all,  the  United  States  acted  upon  a  convenient  fiction 
that  the  Indians  had  authorities  with  power  to  bind; 
whereas  the  leaders  had  little  control  over  their  fol- 
lowers and  after  nearly  every  treaty  there  were 
many  bands  that  could  claim  to  have  been  left  out 
altogether.  Yet  such  as  they  were,  the  treaties  ex- 
isted, and  the  United  States  proceeded  in  1865 
and  1866  to  use  its  specified  rights  in  opening  roads 
through  the  hunting-grounds  of  the  Sioux. 

The  mines  of  Montana  and  Idaho,  which  had  at- 
tracted notice  and  emigration  in  the  early  sixties, 
were  still  the  objective  points  of  a  large  traffic.  They 
were  somewhat  off  the  beaten  routes,  being  acces- 
sible by  the  Missouri  River  and  Fort  Benton,  or  by 
the  Platte  trail  and  a  northern  branch  from  near 
Fort  Hall  to  Virginia  City.  To  bring  them  into 
more  direct  connection  with  the  East  an  available 
route  from  Fort  Laramie  was  undertaken  in  1865. 
The  new  trail  left  the  main  road  near  Fort  Laramie, 
crossed  to  the  north  side  of  the  Platte,  and  ran  off 
to  the  northwest.  Shortly  after  leaving  the  Platte 
the  road  got  into  the  charming  foothill  country 
where  the  slopes  "are  all  covered  with  a  fine  growth 


THE   SIOUX  WAR  273 

of  grass,  and  in  every  valley  there  is  either  a  rushing 
stream  or  some  quiet  babbling  brook  of  pure,  clear 
snow-water  filled  with  trout,  the  banks  lined  with 
trees  —  wild  cherry,  quaking  asp,  some  birch, 
willow,  and  cottonwood."  To  the  left,  and  not  far 
distant,  were  the  Big  Horn  Mountains.  To  the 
right  could  sometimes  be  seen  in  the  distance  the 
shadowy  billows  of  the  Black  Hills.  Running  to 
the  north  and  draining  the  valley  were  the  Powder 
and  Tongue  rivers,  both  tributaries  of  the  Yellow- 
stone. Here  were  water,  timber,  and  forage,  coal 
and  oil  and  game.  It  was  the  garden  spot  of  the 
Indians,  "the  very  heart  of  their  hunting-grounds." 
In  a  single  day's  ride  were  seen  "bear,  buffalo,  elk, 
deer,  antelope,  rabbits,  and  sage-hens."  With 
little  exaggeration  it  was  described  as  a  "natural 
source  of  recuperation  and  supply  to  moving,  hunt- 
ing, and  roving  bands  of  all  tribes,  and  their  lodge 
trails  cross  it  in  great  numbers  from  north  to  south." 
Through  this  land,  keeping  east  of  the  Big  Horn 
Mountains  and  running  around  their  northern  end 
into  the  Yellowstone  Valley,  was  to  run  the  new  Pow- 
der River  road  to  Montana.  The  Sioux  treaties 
were  to  have  their  severest  testing  in  the  selection 
of  choice  hunting-grounds  for  an  emigrant  road,  for 
it  was  one  of  the  certainties  in  the  opening  of  new 
roads  that  game  vanished  in  the  face  of  emigration. 
While  the  commissioners  were  negotiating  their 
treaty  at  Fort  Sully,  the  first  Powder  River  expedi- 
tion, in  its  attempt  to  open  this  new  road  by  the  short 


274  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

and  direct  route  from  Fort  Laramie  to  Bozeman  and 
the  Montana  mines,  was  undoing  their  work.  In  the 
summer  of  1865  General  Patrick  E.  Connor,  with  a 
miscellaneous  force  of  1600,  including  a  detachment 
of  ex-Confederate  troops  who  had  enlisted  in  the 
United  States  army  to  fight  Indians,  started  from 
Fort  Laramie  for  the  mouth  of  the  Rosebuds  on  the 
Yellowstone,  by  way  of  the  Powder  River.  Old  Jim 
Bridger,  the  incarnation  of  this  country,  led  them, 
swearing  mightily  at  "  these  damn  paper-collar 
soldiers,"  who  knew  so  little  of  the  Indians.  There 
was  plenty  of  fighting  as  Connor  pushed  into  the 
Yellowstone,  but  he  was  relieved  from  command  in 
September  and  the  troops  were  drawn  back,  so  that 
there  were  no  definitive  results  of  the  expedition  of 
1865. 

In  1866V,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  Sioux  of  this 
region,  through  their  leader  Red  Cloud,  had  refused 
to  yield  the  ground  or  even  to  treat  concerning  it, 
Colonel  Henry  B.  Carrington  was  ordered  by  General 
Pope  to  command  the  Mountain  District,  Depart- 
ment of  the  Platte,  and  to  erect  and  garrison  posts 
for  the  control  of  the  Powder  River  road.  On  De- 
cember 21  of  this  year,  Captain. W.  J.  Fetterman, 
of  his  command,  and  seventy-eight  officers  and  men 
were  killed  near  Fort  Philip  Kearney  in  a  fight  whose 
merits  aroused  nearly  as  much  acrimonious  discus- 
sion as  the  Sand  Creek  massacre. 

The  events  leading  up  to  the  catastrophe  at  Fort 
Philip  Kearney,  a  catastrophe  so  complete  that  none 


RED  CLOUD  AND  PROFESSOR  MARSH 
From  a  cut  lent  by  Professor  Warren  K.  Moorehead,  of  Andover,  Mass. 


THE  SIOUX  WAR  275 

of  its  white  participants  escaped  to  tell  what  hap- 
pened, were  connected  with  Carrington's  work  in 
building  forts.  He  had  been  detailed  for  the  work 
in  the  spring,  and  after  a  conference  at  Fort  Kearney, 
Nebraska,  with  General  Sherman,  had  marched  his 
men  in  nineteen  days  to  Fort  Laramie.  He  reached 
Fort  Reno,  which  became  his  headquarters,  on  June 
28.  On  the  march,  if  his  orders  were  obeyed,  his 
soldiers  were  scrupulous  in  their  regard  for  the  Ind- 
ians. His  orders  issued  for  the  control  of  emigrants 
passing  along  the  Powder  River  route  were  equally 
careful.  Thirty  men  were  to  constitute  the  mini- 
mum single  party;  these  were  to  travel  with  a  mili- 
tary pass,  which  was  to  be  scrutinized  by  the  com- 
manding officer  of  each  post.  The  trains  were 
ordered  to  hold  together  and  were  warned  that 
"  nearly  all  danger  from  Indians  lies  in  the  reckless- 
ness of  travellers.  A  small  party,  when  separated, 
either  sell  whiskey  to  or  fire  upon  scattering  Indians, 
or  get  into  disputes  with  them,  and  somebody  is  hurt. 
An  insult  to  an  Indian  is  resented  by  the  Indians 
against  the  first  white  men  they  meet,  and  innocent 
travellers  suffer. " 

Carrington's  orders  were  to  garrison  Fort  Reno 
and  build  new  forts  on  the  Powder,  Big  Horn,  and 
Yellowstone  rivers,  and  cover  the  road.  The  last- 
named  fort  was  later  cut  away  because  of  his  insuffi- 
cient force,  but  Fort  Philip  Kearney  and  Fort  C.  F. 
Smith  were  located  during  July  and  August.  The 
former  stood  on  a  little  plateau  formed  between  the 


276  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

two  Pineys  as  they  emerge  from  the  Big  Horn  Moun- 
tains. Its  site  was  surveyed  and  occupied  on  July  15. 
Already  Carrington  was  complaining  that  he  had  too 
few  men  for  his  work.  With  eight  companies  of 
eighty  men  each,  and  most  of  these  new  recruits,  he 
had  to  garrison  his  long  line,  all  the  while  building 
and  protecting  his  stockades  and  fortifications.  "  I 
am  my  own  engineer,  draughtsman,  and  visit  my 
pickets  and  guards  nightly,  with  scarcely  a  day  or 
night  without  attempts  to  steal  stock."  Worse  than 
this,  his  military  equipment  was  inadequate.  Only 
his  band,  specially  armed  for  the  expedition,  had 
Spencer  carbines  and  enough  ammunition.  His 
main  force,  still  armed  with  Springfield  rifles,  had 
under  fifty  rounds  to  the  man. 

The  Indians,  Cheyenne  and  Sioux,  were,  all  through 
the  summer,  showing  no  sign  of  accepting  the  inva- 
sion of  the  hunting-grounds  without  a  fight.  Yet 
Carrington  reported  on  August  29  that  he  was  hold- 
ing them  off;  that  Fort  C.  F.  Smith  on  the  Big  Horn 
had  been  occupied;  that  parties  of  fifty  well-armed 
men  could  get  through  safely  if  they  were  careful. 
The  Indians,  he  said, "  are  bent  on  robbery;  they  only 
fight  when  assured  of  personal  security  and  remuner- 
ative stealings;  they  are  divided  among  themselves." 

With  the  sites  for  forts  C.  F.  Smith  and  Philip 
Kearney  selected,  the  work  of  construction  proceeded 
during  the  autumn.  A  sawmill,  sent  out  from  the 
states,  was  kept  hard  at  work.  Wood  was  cut  on 
the  adjacent  hills  and  speedily  converted  into  cabins 


THE  SIOUX  WAR  277 

and  palisades  which  approached  completion  before 
winter  set  in.  It  was  construction  during  a  state  of 
siege,  however.  Instead  of  pacifying  the  valley  the 
construction  of  the  forts  aggravated  the  Sioux  hos- 
tility so  that  constant  watchfulness  was  needed. 
That  the  trains  sent  out  to  gather  wood  were  not 
seriously  injured  was  due  to  rigorous  discipline.  The 
wagons  moved  twenty  or  more  at  a  time,  with  guards, 
and  in  two  parallel  columns.  At  first  sight  of  Ind- 
ians they  drove  into  corral  and  signalled  back  to 
the  lookouts  at  the  fort  for  help.  Occasionally  men 
were  indeed  cut  out  by  the  Indians,  who  in  turn 
suffered  considerable  loss;  but  Carrington  reduced 
his  own  losses  to  a  minimum.  Friendly  Indians  were 
rarely  seen.  They  were  allowed  to  come  to  the  fort, 
by  the  main  road  and  with  a  white  flag,  but  few 
availed  themselves  of  the  privilege.  The  Sioux 
were  up  in  arms,  and  in  large  numbers  hung  about  the 
Tongue  and  Powder  river  valleys  waiting  for  their 
chance. 

Early  in  December  occurred  an  incident  revealing 
the  danger  of  annihilation  which  threatened  Carring- 
ton's  command.  At  one  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  sixth  a  messenger  reported  to  the  garrison  at 
Fort  Philip  Kearney  that  the  wood  train  was  attacked 
by  Indians  four  miles  away.  Carrington  imme- 
diately had  every  horse  at  the  post  mounted.  For 
the  main  relief  he  sent  out  a  column  under  Brevet 
Lieutenant-colonel  Fetterman,  who  had  just  arrived 
at  the  fort,  while  he  led  in  person  a  flanking  party  to 


278  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

cut  off  the  Indians'  retreat.  The  mercury  was  below 
zero.  Carrington  was  thrown  into  the  water  of 
Peno  Creek  when  his  horse  stumbled  through  break- 
ing ice.  Fetterman's  party  found  the  wood  train 
in  corral  and  standing  off  the  attack  with  success. 
The  savages  retreated  as  the  relief  approached  and 
were  pursued  for  five  miles,  when  they  turned  and 
offered  battle.  Just  as  the  fighting  began,  most  of 
the  cavalry  broke  away  from  Fetterman,  leaving 
him  and  some  fourteen  others  surrounded  by  Indians 
and  attacked  on  three  sides.  He  held  them  off, 
however,  until  Carrington  came  in  sight  and  the  Ind- 
ians fled.  Why  Lieutenant  Bingham  retreated  with 
his  cavalry  and  left  Fetterman  in  such  danger  was 
never  explained,  for  the  Indians  killed  him  and  one 
of  his  non-commissioned  officers,  while  several  other 
privates  were  wounded.  The  Indians,  once  the 
fight  was  over,  disappeared  among  the  hills,  and 
Carrington  had  no  force  with  which  to  follow  them. 
In  reporting  the  battle  that  night  he  renewed  his 
requests  for  men  and  officers.  He  had  but  six  officers 
for  the  six  companies  at  Fort  Philip  Kearney.  He 
was  totally  unable  to  take  the  aggressive  because 
of  the  defences  which  had  constantly  to  be  main- 
tained. 

In  this  fashion  the  fall  advanced  in  the  Powder 
River  Valley.  The  forts  were  finished.  The  Indian 
hostilities  increased.  The  little,  overworked  force 
of  Carrington,  chopping,  building,  guarding,  and 
fighting,  struggled  to  fulfil  its  orders.  If  one  should 


THE  SIOUX  WAR  279 

criticise  Carrington,the  attack  would  be  chiefly  that 
he  looked  to  defensive  measures  in  the  Indian  war. 
He  did  indeed  ask  for  troops,  officers,  and  equipment, 
but  his  despatches  and  his  own  vindication  show  little 
evidence  that  he  realized  the  need  for  large  reen- 
forcements  for  the  specific  purpose  of  a  punitive 
campaign.  More  skilful  Indian  fighters  knew  that 
the  Indians  could  and  would  keep  up  indefinitely 
this  sort  of  filibustering  against  the  forts,  and  that  a 
vigorous  move  against  their  own  villages  was  the 
surest  means  to  secure  peace.  In  Indian  warfare, 
even  more  perhaps  than  in  civilized,  it  is  advanta- 
geous to  destroy  the  enemy's  base  of  supplies. 

The  wood  train  was  again  attacked  on  December 
21.  About  eleven  o'clock  that  morning  the  pickets 
reported  the  train  "  corralled  and  threatened  by 
Indians  on  Sullivant  Hills,  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the 
fort."  The  usual  relief  party  was  at  once  organized 
and  sent  out  under  Fetterman,  who  claimed  the  right 
to  command  it  by  seniority,  and  who  was  not  highest 
in  the  confidence  of  Colonel  Carrington.  He  had 
but  recently  joined  the  command,  was  full  of  enthu- 
siasm and  desire  to  hunt  Indians,  and  needed  the 
admonition  with  which  he  left  the  fort:  that  he 
was  "  fighting  brave  and  desperate  enemies  who 
sought  to  make  up  by  cunning  and  deceit  all  the 
advantage  which  the  white  man  gains  by  intelligence 
and  better  arms."  He  was  ordered  to  support  and 
bring  in  the  wood  train,  this  being  all  Carrington 
believed  himself  strong  enough  to  do  and  keep  on 


280  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 


doing.  Any  one  could  have  had  a  fight  at  any  time, 
and  Carrington  was  wise  to  issue  the  "peremptory 
and  explicit"  orders  to  avoid  pursuit  beyond  the 
summit  of  Lodge  Trail  Ridge,  as  needless  and  unduly 
dangerous.  Three  times  this  order  was  given  to 
Fetterman;  and  after  that,  "fearing  still  that  the 
spirit  of  ambition  might  override  prudence,"  says 
Carrington,  "I  crossed  the  parade  and  from  a  sentry 
platform  halted  the  cavalry  and  again  repeated  my 
precise  orders." 

With  these  admonitions,  Fetterman  started  for 
the  relief,  leading  a  party  of  eighty-one  officers  and 
men,  picked  and  all  well  armed.  He  crossed  the 
Lodge  Trail  Ridge  as  soon  as  he  was  out  of  sight  of 
the  fort  and  disappeared.  No  one  of  his  command 
came  back  alive.  The  wood  train,  before  twelve 
o'clock,  broke  corral  and  moved  on  in  safety,  while 
shots  were  heard  beyond  the  ridge.  For  half  an 
hour  there  was  a  constant  volleying;  then  all  was 
still.  Meanwhile  Carrington,  nervous  at  the  lack  of 
news  from  Fetterman,  had  sent  a  second  column,  and 
two  wagons  to  relieve  him,  under  Captain  Ten  Eyck. 
The  latter,  moving  along  cautiously,  with  large  bands 
of  Sioux  retreating  before  him,  came  finally  upon 
forty-nine  bodies,  including  that  of  Fetterman.  The 
evidence  of  arrows,  spears,  and  the  position  of  bodies 
was  that  they  had  been  surrounded,  surprised,  and 
overwhelmed  in  their  defeat.  The  next  day  the  rest 
of  the  bodies  were  reached  and  brought  back.  Naked, 
dismembered,  slashed,  visited  with  indescribable 


THE  SIOUX  WAR  281 

indignities,  they  were  buried  in  two  great  graves; 
seventy-nine  soldiers  and  two  civilians. 

The  Fetterman  massacre  raised  a  storm  in  the  East 
similar  in  volume  to  that  following  Sand  Creek,  two 
years  before.  Who  was  at  fault,  and  why,  were  the 
questions  indignantly  asked.  Judicious  persons  were 
well  aware,  wrote  the  Nation,  that  "our  whole  Indian 
policy  is  a  system  of  mismanagement,  and  in  many 
parts  one  of  giganticabuse. ' '  The  military  authorities 
tried  to  place  the  blame  on  Carrington,  as  plausible, 
energetic,  and  industrious,  but  unable  to  maintain 
discipline  or  inspire  his  officers  with  confidence. 
Unquestionably  a  part  of  this  was  true,  yet  the  letter 
which  made  the  charge  admitted  that  often  the  Ind- 
ians were  better  armed  than  the  troops,  and  the 
critic  himself,  General  Cooke,  had  ordered  Carring- 
ton: "You  can  only  defend  yourself  and  trains, 
and  emigrants,  the  best  you  can."  The  Indian  Com- 
missioner charged  it  on  the  bad  disposition  of  the 
troops,  always  anxious  to  fight. 

The  issue  broke  over  the  number  of  Indians  in- 
volved. Current  reports  from  Fort  Philip  Kearney 
indicated  from  3000  to  5000  hostile  warriors,  chiefly 
Sioux  and  led  by  Red  Cloud  of  the  Oglala  tribe. 
The  Commissioner  pointed  out  that  such  a  force 
must  imply  from  21,000  to  35,000  Indians  in  all  — 
a  number  that  could  not  possibly  have  been  in  the 
Powder  River  country.  It  is  reasonable  to  believe 
that  Fetterman  was  not  overwhelmed  by  any  multi- 
tude like  this,  but  that  his  own  rash  disobedience  led 


282  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

to  ambush  and  defeat  by  a  force  well  below  3000. 
Upon  him  fell  the  immediate  responsibility;  above 
him,  the  War  Department  was  negligent  in  detail- 
ing so  few  men  for  so  large  a  task;  and  ultimately 
there  was  the  impossibility  of  expecting  savage  Sioux 
to  give  up  their  best  hunting-grounds  as  a  result  of 
a  treaty  signed  by  others  than  themselves. 

The  fight  at  Fort  Philip  Kearney  marked  a  point  of 
transition  in  Indian  warfare.  Even  here  the  Indians 
were  mostly  armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  and  were 
relying  upon  their  superior  numbers  for  victory. 
Yet  a  change  in  Indian  armament  was  under  way, 
which  in  a  few  years  was  to  convert  the  Indian  from 
a  savage  warrior  into  the  "  finest  natural  soldier  in 
the  world. "  He  was  being  armed  with  rifles.  As 
the  game  diminished  the  tribes  found  that  the  old 
methods  of  hunting  were  inadequate  and  began  the 
pressure  upon  the  Indian  Department  for  better 
weapons.  The  department  justified  itself  in  issuing 
rifles  and  ammunition,  on  the  ground  that  the  laws 
of  the  United  States  expected  the  Indians  to  live 
chiefly  upon  game,  which  they  could  not  now  pro- 
cure by  the  older  means.  Hence  came  the  anoma- 
lous situation  in  which  one  department  of  the 
United  States  armed  and  equipped  the  tribes  for 
warfare  against  another.  If  arms  were  cut  down, 
the  tribes  were  in  danger  of  extinction;  if  they 
were  issued,  hostilities  often  resulted.  After  the 
Fetterman  massacre  the  Indian  Office  asserted  that 
the  hostile  Sioux  were  merely  hungry,  because  the 


THE  SIOUX  WAR  283 

War  Department  had  caused  the  issuing  of  guns  to 
be  stopped.  It  was  all  an  unsolvable  problem,  with 
bad  temper  and  suspicion  on  both  sides. 

A  few  months  after  the  Fetterman  affair  Red  Cloud 
tried  again  to  wreck  a  wood  train  near  Fort  Philip 
Kearney.  But  this  time  the  escort  erected  a  barri- 
cade with  the  iron,  bullet-proof  bodies  of  a  new  vari- 
ety of  army  wagon,  and  though  deserted  by  most  of 
his  men,  Major  James  Powell,  with  one  other  officer, 
twenty-six  privates,  and  four  citizens,  lay  behind 
their  fortification  and  repelled  charge  after  charge 
from  some  800  Sioux  and  Cheyenne.  With  little 
loss  to  himself  he  inflicted  upon  the  savages  a  lesson 
that  lasted  many  years. 

The  Sioux  and  Cheyenne  wars  were  links  in  the 
chain  of  Indian  outbreaks  that  stretched  across  the 
path  of  the  westward  movement,  the  overland  traffic 
and  the  continental  railways..  The  Pacific  railways 
had  been  chartered  just  as  the  overland  telegraph 
had  been  opened  to  the  Pacific  coast.  With  this  last, 
perhaps  from  reverence  for  the  nearly  supernatural, 
the  Indians  rarely  meddled.  But  as  the  railway 
advanced,  increasing  compression  and  repression 
stirred  the  tribes  to  a  series  of  hostilities.  The  first 
treaties  which  granted  transit  —  meaning  chiefly 
wagon  transit  —  broke  down.  A  new  series  of  con- 
ferences  and  a  new  policy  were  The  direct  resuItTpf 
these  wars. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   PEACE   COMMISSION   AND   THE    OPEN  WAY 

THE  crisis  in  the  struggle  for  the  control  of  the  great 
plains  may  fairly  be  said  to  have  been  reached  about 
the  time  of  the  slaughter  of  Fetterman  and  his  men 
at  Fort  Philip  Kearney.  During  the  previous  fifteen 
years  the  causes  had  been  shaping  through  the  devel- 
opment of  the  use  of  the  trails,  the  opening  of  the 
mining  territories,  and  the  agitation  for  a  continental 
railway.  Now  the  railway  was  not  only  authorized 
and  begun,  but  Congress  had  put  a  premium  upon 
its  completion  by  an  act  of  July,  1866,  which  per- 
mitted the  Union  Pacific  to  build  west  and  the 
Central  Pacific  to  build  east  until  the  two  lines  should 
meet.  In  the  ensuing  race  for  the  land  grants  the 
roads  were  pushed  with  new  vigor,  so  that  the  crisis 
of  the  Indian  problem  was  speedily  reached.  In  the 
fall  of  1866  Ben  Holladay  saw  the  end  of  the  over- 
land freighting  and  sold  out.  In  November -the 
terminus  of  the  overland  mail  route  was  moved  west 
to  Fort  Kearney,  Nebraska,  whither  the  Union  Pacific 
had  now  arrived  in  its  course  of  construction.  No 
wonder  the  tribes  realized  their  danger  and  broke 
out  in  protest. 

As  the  crisis  drew  near  radical  differences  of  opin- 

284 


PEACE  COMMISSION  AND  THE  OPEN   WAY      285 

ion  among  those  who  must  handle  the  tribes  became 
apparent.  The  question  of  the  management  by  the 
War  Department  or  the  Interior  was  in  the  air,  and 
was  raised  again  and  again  in  Congress.  More 
fundamental  was  the  question  of  policy,  upon  which 
the  view  of  Senator  John  Sherman  was  as  clear  as  any. 
"  I  agree  with  you,"  he  wrote  to  his  brother  William, 
in  1867,  "  that  Indian  wars  will  not  cease  until  all  the 
Indian  tribes  are  absorbed  in  our  population,  and 
can  be  controlled  by  constables  instead  of  soldiers." 
Upon  another  phase  of  management  Francis  A. 
Walker  wrote  a  little  later :  "  There  can  be  no  ques- 
tion of  national  dignity  involved  in  the  treatment  of 
savages  by  a  civilized  power.  The  proudest  Anglo- 
Saxon  will  climb  a  tree  with  a  bear  behind  him.  .  .  . 
With  wild  men,  as  with  wild  beasts,  the  question 
whether  io  fight,  coax,  or  run  is  a  question  merely 
of  what  is  safest  or  easiest  in  the  situation  given." 
That  responsibility  for  some  decided  action  lay 
heavily  upon  the  whites  may  be  implied  from  the 
admission  of  Colonel  Henry  Inman,  who  knew  the 
frontier  well  —  "that,  during  more  than  a  third  of  a 
century  passed  on  the  plains  and  in  the  mountains,  he 
has  never  known  of  a  war  with  the  hostile  tribes  that 
was  not  caused  by  broken  faith  on  the  part  of  the 
United  States  or  its  agents."  A  professional  Indian 
fighter,  like  Kit  Carson,  declared  on  oath  that  "as 
a  general  thing,  the  difficulties  arise  from  aggressions 
on  the  part  of  the  whites." 

In  Congress  all  the  interests  involved  in  the  Indian 


286  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

problem  found  spokesmen.  The  War  and  Interior 
departments  had  ample  representation;  the  Western 
members  commonly  voiced  the  extreme  opinion  of 
the  frontier ;  Eastern  men  often  spoke  for  the  humani- 
tarian sentiment  that  saw  much  good  in  the  Indian 
and  much  evil  in  his  treatment.  But  withal,  when  it 
came  to  special  action  upon  any  situation,  Congress 
felt  its  lack  of  information.  The  departments  best 
informed  were  partisan  and  antagonistic.  Even 
to-day  it  is  a  matter  of  high  critical  scholarship  to 
determine,  with  the  passions  cooled  off,  truth  and 
responsibility  in  such  affairs  as  the  Minnesota  out- 
break, and  the  Chivington  or  the  Fetterman  massacre. 
To  lighten  in  part  its  feeling  of  helplessness  in  the  midst 
of  interested  parties  Congress  raised  a  committee 
of  seven,  three  of  the  Senate  and  four  of  the  House, 
in  March,  1865,  to  investigate  and  report  on  the 
condition  of  the  Indian  tribes.  The  joint  committee 
was  resolved  upon  during  a  bitter  and  ill-informed 
debate  on  Chivington;  while  it  sat,  the  Cheyenne 
war  ended  and  the  Sioux  broke  out;  the  committee 
reported  in  January,  1867.  To  facilitate  its  investi- 
gation it  divided  itself  into  three  groups  to  visit  the 
Pacific  Slope,  the  southern  plains,  and  the  northern 
plains.  Its  report,  with  the  accompanying  testimony, 
fills  over  five  hundred  pages.  In  all  the  storm  centres 
of  the  Indian  West  the  committee  sat,  listened,  and 
questioned. 

The  Report  on  the  Condition  of  the  Indian  Tribes 
gave  a  doleful  view  of  the  future  from  the  Indians' 


PEACE  COMMISSION  AND  THE  OPEN   WAY      287 

standpoint.  General  Pope  was  quoted  to  the  effect 
that  the  savages  were  rapidly  dying  off  from  wars, 
cruel  treatment,  unwise  policy,  and  dishonest  admin- 
istration, "  and  by  steady  and  resistless  encroach- 
ments of  the  white  emigration  towards  the  west,  which 
is  every  day  confining  the  Indians  to  narrower  limits, 
and  driving  off  or  killing  the  game,  their  only  means 
of  subsistence/7  To  this  catalogue  of  causes  General 
Carleton,  who  must  have  believed  his  war  of  Apache 
and  Navaho  extermination  a  potent  handmaid  of 
providence,  added:  "The  causes  which  the  Almighty 
originates,  when  in  their  appointed  time  He  wills 
that  one  race  of  man  —  as  in  races  of  lower  animals  — 
shall  disappear  off  the  face  of  the  earth  and  give  place 
to  another  race,  and  so  on,  in  the  great  cycle  traced 
out  by  Himself,  which  may  be  seen,  but  has  reasons 
too  deep  to  be  fathomed  by  us.  The  races  of  mam- 
moths and  mastodons,  and  the  great  sloths,  came 
and  passed  away ;  the  red  man  of  America  is  pass- 
ing away!" 

The  committee  believed  that  the  wars  with  their 
incidents  of  slaughter  and  extermination  by  both  sides, 
as  occasion  offered,  were  generally  the  result  of  white 
encroachments.  It  did  not  fall  in  with  the  growing 
opinion  that  the  control  of  the  tribes  should  be  passed 
over  to  the  War  Department,  but  recommended  in- 
stead a  system  of  visiting  boards,  each  including  a 
civilian,  a  soldier,  and  an  Assistant  Indian  Commis- 
sioner, for  the  regular  inspection  of  the  tribes.  The 
recommendation  of  the  committee  came  to  naught 


288  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

in  Congress,  but  the  information  it  gathered,  supple- 
menting the  annual  reports  of  the  Commissioner 
of  Indian  Affairs  and  the  special  investigations  of 
single  wars,  gave  much  additional  weight  to  the 
belief  that  a  crisis  was  at  hand. 

Meanwhile,  through  1866  and  1867,  the  Cheyenne 
and  Sioux  wars  dragged  on.  The  Powder  River 
country  continued  to  be  a  field  of  battle,  with 
Powell's  fight  coming  in  the  summer  of  1867. 
In  the  spring  of  1867  General  Hancock  destroyed 
a  Cheyenne  village  at  Pawnee  Fork.  Eastern 
opinion  came  to  demand  more  forcefully  that  this 
fighting  should  stop.  Western  opinion  was  equally 
insistent  that  the  Indian  must  go,  while  General 
Sherman  believed  that  a  part  of  its  bellicose  de- 
mand was  due  to  a  desire  for  "the  profit  resulting 
from  military  occupation.77  Certain  it  was  that  war 
had  lasted  for  several  years  with  no  definite  results, 
save  to  rouse  the  passions  of  the  West,  the  revenge  of 
the  Indians,  and  the  philanthropy  of  the  East.  The 
army  had  had  its  chance.  Now  the  time  had  come 
for  general,  real  attempts  at  peace. 

The  fortieth  Congress,  beginning  its  life  on  March 
4,  1867,  actually  began  its  session  at  that  time.  Or- 
dinarily it  would  have  waited  until  December,  but 
the  prevailing  distrust  of  President  Johnson  and  his 
reconstruction  ideas  induced  it  to  convene  as  early 
as  the  law  allowed.  Among  the  most  significant  of  its 
measures  in  this  extra  session  was  "Mr.  Henderson's 
bill  for  establishing  peace  with  certain  Indian  tribes 


PEACE  COMMISSION  AND   THE  OPEN  WAY       289 

now  at  war  with  the  United  States/'  which,  in  the  view 
of  the  Nation,  was  a  "  practical  measure  for  the  secu- 
rity of  travel  through  the  territories  and  for  the  selec- 
tion of  a  new  area  sufficient  to  contain  all  the  unset- 
tled tribes  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains."  Senator 
Sherman  had  informed  his  brother  of  the  prospect 
of  this  law,  and  the  General  had  replied:  "The  fact 
is,  this  contact  of  the  two  races  has  caused  universal 
hostility,  and  the  Indians  operate  in  small,  scattered 
bands,  avoiding  the  posts  and  well-guarded  trains  and 
hitting  little  parties  who  are  off  their  guard.  I  have 
a  much  heavier  force  on  the  plains,  but  they  are  so 
large  that  it  is  impossible  to  guard  at  all  points,  and 
the  clamor  for  protection  everywhere  has  prevented 
our  being  able  to  collect  a  large  force  to  go  into  the 
country  where  we  believe  the  Indians  have  hid  their 
families;  viz.  up  on  the  Yellowstone  and  down  on  the 
Red  River."  Sherman  believed  more  in  fighting  than 
in  treating  at  this  time,  yet  he  went  on  the  commis- 
sion erected  by  the  act  of  July  20,  1867.  By  this  law 
four  civilians,  including  the  Indian  Commissioner,  and 
three  generals  of  the  army,  were  appointed  to  collect 
and  deal  with  the  hostile  tribes,  with  three  chief  ob- 
jects in  view:  to  remove  the  existing  causes  of  com- 
plaint, to  secure  the  safety  of  the  various  continental 
railways  and  the  overland  routes,  and  to  work  out 
some  means  for  promoting  Indian  civilization  with- 
out impeding  the  advance  of  the  United  States.  To 
this  last  end  they  were  to  hunt  for  permanent  homes 
for  the  tribes,  which  were  to  be  off  the  lines  of  all 


290  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

the  railways  then  chartered,  —  the  Union  Pacific, 
the  Northern  Pacific,  and  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific. 

The  Peace  Commission,  thus  organized,  sat  for 
fifteen  months.  When  it  rose  at  last,  it  had  opened 
the  way  for  the  railways,  so  far  as  treaties  could  avail. 
It  had  persuaded  many  tribes  to  accept  new  and  more 
remote  reserves,  but  in  its  debates  and  negotiations 
the  breach  between  military  and  civil  control  had 
widened,  so  that  the  Commission  was  at  the  end 
divided  against  itself. 

On  August  6,  1867,  the  Commission  organized  at 
St.  Louis  and  discussed  plans  for  getting  into  touch 
with  the  tribes  with  whom  it  had  to  treat.  "The 
first  difficulty  presenting  itself  was  to  secure  an  inter- 
view with  the  chiefs  and  leading  warriors  of  these 
hostile  tribes.  They  were  roaming  over  an  immense 
country,  thousands  of  miles  in  extent,  and  much  of  it 
unknown  even  to  hunters  and  trappers  of  the  white 
race.  Small  war  parties  constantly  emerging  from 
this  vast  extent  of  unexplored  country  would  sud- 
denly strike  the  border  settlements,  killing  the  men 
and  carrying  off  into  captivity  the  women  and  chil- 
dren. Companies  of  workmen  on  the  railroads,  at 
points  hundreds  of  miles  from  each  other,  would  be 
attacked  on  the  same  day,  perhaps  in  the  same  hour. 
Overland  mail  coaches  could  not  be  run  without 
military  escort,  and  railroad  and  mail  stations  un- 
guarded by  soldiery  were  in  perpetual  danger.  All 
safe  transit  across  the  plains  had  ceased.  To  go  with- 
out soldiers  was  hazardous  in  the  extreme;  to  go  with 


PEACE  COMMISSION  AND  THE  OPEN   WAY       291 

them  forbade  reasonable  hope  of  securing  peaceful 
interviews  with  the  enemy."  Fortunately  the  Peace 
Commission  contained  within  itself  the  most  useful 
of  assistants.  General  Sherman  and  Commissioner 
Taylor  sent  out  word  to  the  Indians  through  the 
military  posts  and  Indian  agencies,  notifying  the 
tribes  that  the  Commissioners  desired  to  confer  with 
them  near  Fort  Laramie  in  September  and  Fort 
Larned  in  October. 

The  Fort  Laramie  conference  bore  no  fruit  during 
the  summer  of  1867.  After  inspecting  conditions  on 
the  upper  Missouri  the  Commissioners  proceeded  to 
Omaha  in  September  and  thence  to  North  Platte 
station  on  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad.  Here  they 
met  Swift  Bear  of  the  Brule  Sioux  and  learned 
that  the  Sioux  would  not  be  ready  to  meet  them 
until  November.  The  Powder  River  War  was  still 
being  fought  by  chiefs  who  could  not  be  reached 
easily  and  whose  delegations  must  be  delayed. 
When  the  Commissioners  returned  to  Fort  Laramie 
in  November,  they  found  matters  little  better.  Red 
Cloud,  who  was  the  recognized  leader  of  the  Oglala 
and  Brule  Sioux  and  the  hostile  northern  Cheyenne, 
refused  even  to  see  the  envoys,  and  sent  them  word: 
"  that  his  war  against  the  whites  was  to  save  the  valley 
of  the  Powder  River,  the  only  hunting  ground  left 
to  his  nation,  from  our  intrusion.  He  assured  us 
that  whenever  the  military  garrisons  at  Fort  Philip 
Kearney  and  Fort  C.  F.  Smith  were  withdrawn,  the 
war  on  his  part  would  cease."  Regretfully,  the 


292  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Commissioners  left  Fort  Laramie,  having  seen  no 
savages  except  a  few  non-hostile  Crows,  and  having 
summoned  Red  Cloud  to  meet  them  during  the  fol- 
lowing summer,  after  asking  "  a  truce  or  cessation  of 
hostilities  until  the  council  could  be  held." 

The  southern  plains  tribes  were  met  at  Medicine 
Lodge  Creek  some  eighty  miles  south  of  the  Arkan- 
sas River.  Before  the  Commissioners  arrived  here 
General  Sherman  was  summoned  to  Washington,  his 
place  being  taken  by  General  C.  C.  Augur,  whose 
name  makes  the  eighth  signature  to  the  published 
report.  For  some  time  after  the  Commissioners 
arrived  the  Cheyenne,  sullen  and  suspicious,  re- 
mained in  their  camp  forty  miles  away  from  Medi- 
cine Lodge.  But  the  Kiowa,  Comanche,  and 
Apache  came  to  an  agreement,  while  the  others 
held  off.  On  the  21st  of  October  these  ceded  all 
their  rights  to  occupy  their  great  claims  in  the 
Southwest,  the  whole  of  the  two  panhandles  of 
Texas  and  Oklahoma,  and  agreed  to  confine  them- 
selves to  a  new  reserve  in  the  southwestern  part  of 
Indian  Territory,  between  the  Red  River  and  the 
Washita, '  on  lands  taken  from  the  Choctaw  and 
Chickasaw  in  1866. 

The  Commissioners  could  not  greatly  blame  the 
Arapaho  and  Cheyenne  for  their  reluctance  to 
treat.  These  had  accepted  in  1861  the  triangular 
Sand  Creek  reserve  in  Colorado,  where  they  had  been 
massacred  by  Chivington  in  1864.  Whether  rightly 
or  not,  they  believed  themselves  betrayed,  and  the 


PEACE  COMMISSION  AND  THE  OPEN   WAY       293 

Indian  Office  sided  with  them.  In  1865,  after  Sand 
Creek,  they  exchanged  this  tract  for  a  new  one  in 
Kansas  and  Indian  Territory,  which  was  amended 
to  nothingness  when  the  Senate  added  to  the  treaty 
the  words,  "no  part  of  the  reservation  shall  be  within 
the  state  of  Kansas. "  They  had  left  the  former  re- 
serve; the  new  one  had  not  been  given  them;  yet 
for  two  years  after  1865  they  had  generally  kept  the 
peace.  Sherman  travelled  through  this  country  in 
the  autumn  of  1866  and  "  met  no  trouble  whatever/7 
although  he  heard  rumors  of  Indian  wars.  In  1867, 
General  Hancock  had  destroyed  one  of  their  villages 
on  the  Pawnee  Fork  of  the  Arkansas,  without  prov- 
ocation, the  Indians  believed.  After  this  there  had 
been  admitted  war.  The  Indians  had  been  on  the 
war-path  all  the  time,  plundering  the  frontier  and 
dodging  the  military  parties,  and  were  unable  for 
some  weeks  to  realize  that  the  Peace  Commissioners 
offered  a  change  of  policy.  Yet  finally  these  yielded 
to  blandishment  and  overture,  and  signed,  on  Octo- 
ber 28,  a  treaty  at  Medicine  Lodge.  The  new  re- 
serve was  a  bit  of  barren  land  nearly  destitute  of 
wood  and  water,  and  containing  many  streams  that 
were  either  brackish  or  dry  during  most  of  the  year. 
It  was  in  the  Cherokee  Outlet,  between  the  Arkansas 
and  Cimarron  rivers. 

The  Medicine  Lodge  treaties  were  the  chief  result  of 
the  summer's  negotiations.  The  Peace  Commission 
returned  to  Fort  Laramie  in  the  following  spring  to 
meet  the  reluctant  northern  tribes.  The  Sioux,  the 


294  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

Crows,  and  the  Arapaho  and  Cheyenne  who  were 
allied  with  them,  made  peace  after  the  Commissioners 
had  assented  to  the  terms  laid  down  by  Red  Cloud  in 
1867.  They  had  convinced  themselves  that  the 
occupation  of  the  Powder  River  Valley  was  both 
illegal  and  unjust,  and  accordingly  the  garrisons  had 
been  drawn  out  of  the  new  forts.  Much  to  the  anger 
of  Montana  was  this  yielding.  "  With  character- 
istic pusillanimity,"  wrote  one  of  the  pioneers,  years 
later,  denouncing  the  act,  "the  government  ordered 
all  the  forts  abandoned  and  the  road  closed  to  travel/' 
In  the  new  Fort  Laramie  treaty  of  April  29,  1868, 
it  was  specifically  agreed  that  the  country  east  of  the 
Big  Horn  Mountains  was  to  be  considered  as  unceded 
Indian  territory;  while  the  Sioux  bound  themselves 
to  occupy  as  their  permanent  home  the  lands  west  of 
the  Missouri,  between  the  parallels  of  43°  and  46°,  and 
east  of  the  104th  meridian  —  an  area  coinciding  to- 
day with  the  western  end  of  South  Dakota.  Thus 
was  begun  the  actual  compression  of  the  Sioux  of 
the  plains. 

The  treaties  made  by  the  Peace  Commissioners 
were  the  most  important,  but  were  not  the  only 
treaties  of  1867  and  1868,  looking  towards  the  relin- 
quishment  by  the  Indians  of  lands  along  the  rail- 
road's right  of  way.  It  had  been  found  that  rights 
of  transit  through  the  Indian  Country,  such  as  those 
secured  at  Laramie  in  1851,  were  insufficient.  The 
Indian  must  leave  even  the  vicinity  of  the  route  of 
travel,  for  peace  and  his  own  good. 


PEACE  COMMISSION  AND  THE  OPEN  WAY       295 

Most  important  of  the  other  tribes  shoved  away 
from  the  route  were  the  Ute,  Shoshoni,  and  Ban- 
nock, whose  country  lay  across  the  great  trail  just 
west  of  the  Rockies.  The  Ute,  having  given  their 
name  to  the  territory  of  Utah,  were  to  be  found 
south  of  the  trail,  between  it  and  the  lower  waters 
of  the  Colorado.  Their  western  bands  were  earliest 
in  negotiation  and  were  settled  on  reserves,  the  most 
important  being  on  the  Uintah  River  in  northeast 
Utah,  after  1861.  The  Colorado  Ute  began  to  treat 
in  1863,  but  did  not  make  definite  cessions  until  1868, 
when  the  southwestern  third  of  Colorado  was  set 
apart  for  them.  Active  life  in  Colorado  territory 
was  at  the  start  confined  to  the  mountains  in  the 
vicinity  of  Denver  City,  while  the  Indians  were 
pushed  down  the  slopes  of  the  range  on  both  sides. 
But  as  the  eastern  Sand  Creek  reserve  soon  had  to  be 
abolished,  so  Colorado  began  to  growl  at  the  western 
Ute  reserve  and  to  complain  that  indolent  savages 
were  given  better  treatment  than  white  citizens. 
The  Shoshoni  and  Bannock  ranged  from  Fort  Hall 
to  the  north  and  were  visited  by  General  Augur 
at  Fort  Bridger  in  the  summer  of  1868.  As  the  re- 
sults of  his  gifts  and  diplomacy  the  former  were 
pushed  up  to  the  Wind  River  reserve  in  Wyoming 
territory,  while  the  latter  were  granted  a  home 
around  Fort  Hall. 

The  friction  with  the  Indians  was  heaviest  near 
the  line  of  the  old  Indian  frontier  and  tended  to  be 
lighter  towards  the  west.  It  was  natural  enough 


296  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

that  on  the  eastern  edge  of  the  plains,  where  the 
tribes  had  been  colonized  and  where  Indian  popu- 
lation was  most  dense,  the  difficulties  should  be 
greatest.  Indeed  the  only  wars  which  were  suffi- 
ciently important  to  count  as  resistance  to  the  west- 
ward movement  were  those  of  the  plains  tribes  and 
were  fought  east  of  the  continental  divide.  The 
mountain  and  western  wars  were  episodes,  isolated 
from  the  main  movements.  Yet  these  great  plains 
that  now  had  to  be  abandoned  had  been  set  aside 
as  a  permanent  home  for  the  race  in  pursuance  of 
Monroe's  policy.  In  the  report  of  the  Peace  Com- 
missioners all  agreed  that  the  time  had  come  to 
change  it. 

The  influence  of  the  humanitarians  dominated 
the  report  of  the  Commissioners,  which  was  signed  in 
January,  1868.  Wherever  possible,  the  side  of  the 
Indian  was  taken.  The  Chivington  massacre  was 
an  " indiscriminate  slaughter/7  scarcely  paralleled 
in  the  " records  of  the  Indian  barbarity";  General 
Hancock  had  ruthlessly  destroyed  the  Cheyenne 
at  Pawnee  Fork,  though  himself  in  doubt  as  to 
the  existence  of  a  war:  Fetterman  had  been  killed 
because  "the  civil  and  military  departments  of  our 
government  cannot,  or  will  not,  understand  each 
other."  Apologies  were  made  for  Indian  hostility, 
and  the  " revolting"  history  of  the  removal  policy 
was  described.  It  had  been  the  result  of  this  policy 
to  promote  barbarism  rather  than  civilization. 
"But  one  thing  then  remains  to  be  done  with  honor 


PEACE  COMMISSION   AND   THE   OPEN   WAY       297 

to  the  nation,  and  that  is  to  select  a  district,  or  dis- 
tricts of  country,  as  indicated  by  Congress,  on  which 
all  the  tribes  east  of  the  Rocky  mountains  may  be 
gathered.  For  each  district  let  a  territorial  govern- 
ment be  established,  with  powers  adapted  to  the 
ends  designed.  The  governor  should  be  a  man  of 
unquestioned  integrity  and  purity  of  character; 
he  should  be  paid  such  salary  as  to  place  him 
above  temptation. "  He  should  be  given  adequate 
powers  to  keep  the  peace  and  enforce  a  policy  of 
progressive  civilization.  The  belief  that  under 
American  conditions  the  Indian  problem  was  in- 
soluble was  confirmed  by  this  report  of  the  Peace 
Commissioners,  well  informed  and  philanthropic  as 
they  were.  After  their  condemnation  of  an  existing 
removal  policy,  the  only  remedy  which  they  could 
offer  was  another  policy  of  concentration  and 
removal. 

The  Commissioners  recommended  that  the  Ind- 
ians should  be  colonized  on  two  reserves,  north  and 
south  of  the  railway  lines  respectively.  The  south- 
ern reserve  was  to  be  the  old  territory  of  the  civilized 
tribes,  known  as  Indian  Territory,  where  the  Com- 
missioners thought  a  total  of  86,000  could  be  settled 
within  a  few  years.  A  northern  district  might  be 
located  north  of  Nebraska,  within  the  area  which 
they  later  allotted  to  the  Sioux;  54,000  could  be 
colonized  here.  Individual  savages  might  be  allowed 
to  own  land  and  be  incorporated  among-  the  citizens 
of  the  Western  states,  but  most  of  the  tribes  ought 


298  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

to  be  settled  in  the  two  Indian  territories,  while  this 
removal  policy  should  be  the  last. 

Upon  the  vexed  question  of  civilian  or  military 
control  the  Commissioners  were  divided.  They 
believed  that  both  War  and  Interior  departments 
were  too  busy  to  give  proper  attention  to  the  wards, 
and  recommended  an  independent  department  for 
the  Indians.  In  October,  1868,  they  reversed  this 
report  and,  under  military  influence,  spoke  strongly 
for  the  incorporation  of  the  Indian  Office  in  the  War 
Department.  "We  have  now  selected  and  provided 
reservations  for  all,  off  the  great  roads,"  wrote 
General  Sherman  to  his  brother  in  September,  1868. 
"All  who  cling  to  their  old  hunting-grounds  are 
hostile  and  will  remain  so  till  killed  off.  We  will 
have  a  sort  of  predatory  war  for  years,  every  now 
and  then  be  shocked  by  the  indiscriminate  murder 
of  travellers  and  settlers,  but  the  country  is  so  large, 
and  the  advantage  of  the  Indians  so  great,  that 
we  cannot  make  a  single  war  and  end  it.  From 
the  nature  of  things  we  must  take  chances  and  clean 
out  Indians  as  we  encounter  them."  Although  it 
was  the  tendency  of  military  control  to  provoke  Ind- 
ian wars,  the  army  was  near  the  truth  in  its  notion 
that  Indians  and  whites  could  not  live  together. 

The  way  across  the  continent  was  opened  by  these 
treaties  of  1867  and  1868,  and  the  Union  Pacific 
hurried  to  take  advantage  of  it.  The  other  Pacific 
railways,  Northern  Pacific  and  Atlantic  and  Pacific, 
were  so  slow  in  using  their  charters  that  hope  in  their 


PEACE  COMMISSION  AND  THE  OPEN   WAY       299 

construction  was  nearly  abandoned,  but  the  chief 
enterprise  neared  completion  before  the  inauguration 
of  President  Grant.  The  new  territory  of  Wyoming, 
rather  than  the  statue  of  Columbus  which  Benton 
had  foreseen,  was  perched  upon  the  summit  of  the 
Rockies  as  its  monument. 

Intelligent  easterners  had  difficulty  in  keeping 
pace  with  western  development  during  the  decade 
of  the  Civil  War.  The  United  States  itself  had  made 
no  codification  of  Indian  treaties  since  1837,  and 
allowed  the  law  of  tribal  relations  to  remain  scattered 
through  a  thousand  volumes  of  government  docu- 
ments. Even  Indian  agents  and  army  officers  were 
often  as  ignorant  of  the  facts  as  was  the  general 
public.  "All  Americans  have  some  knowledge  of 
the  country  west  of  the  Mississippi,"  lamented  the 
Nation  in  1868,  but  "  there  is  no  book  of  travel  relat- 
ing to  those  regions  which  does  more  than  add  to  a 
mass  of  very  desultory  information.  Few  men  have 
more  than  the  most  unconnected  and  unmethodical 
knowledge  of  the  vast  expanse  of  territory  which 
lies  beyond  Kansas  .  .  .  [By]  this  time  Leavenworth 
must  have  ceased  to  be  in  the  West;  probably, 
as  we  write,  Denver  has  become  an  Eastern  city, 
and  day  by  day  the  Pacific  Railroad  is  abolishing  the 
marks  that  distinguish  Western  from  Eastern  life.  .  .  . 
A  man  talks  to  us  of  the  country  west  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  while  he  is  talking,  the  Territory 
of  Wyoming  is  established,  of  which  neither  he  nor 
his  auditors  have  before  heard." 


300 


THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 


In  that  division  of  the  plains  which  was  sketched 
out  in  the  fifties,  the  great  amorphous  eastern  terri- 
tories of  Kansas  and  Nebraska  met  on  the  summit 
of  the  Rockies  the  great  western  territories  of 
Washington,  Utah,  and  New  Mexico.  The  gold 


THE  WEST  IN  1863 

The  mining  booms  had  completed  the  territorial  divisions  of  the  Southwest. 
In  1864  Idaho  was  reduced  and  Montana  created.    Wyoming  followed  in  1868. 

booms  had  broken  up  all  of  these.  Arizona,  Ne- 
vada, Idaho,  Montana,  Dakota,  Colorado,  had  found 
their  excuses  for  existence,  while  Kansas  and  Nev- 
ada entered  the  Union,  with  Nebraska  following 
in  1867.  Between  the  thirty-seventh  and  forty- 
first  parallels  Colorado  fairly  straddled  the  divide. 


PEACE  COMMISSION  AND  THE  OPEN  WAY       301 

To  the  north,  in  the  region  of  the  great  river  val- 
leys, —  Green,  Big  Horn,  Powder,  Platte,  and  Sweet- 
water,  —  the  precious  metals  were  not  found  in 
quantities  which  justified  exploitation  earlier  than 
1867.  But  in  that  year  moderate  discoveries  on 
the  Sweetwater  and  the  arrival  of  the  terminal 
camps  of  the  Union  Pacific  gave  plausibility  to  a 
scheme  for  a  new  territory. 

The  Sweetwater  mines,  without  causing  any 
great  excitement,  brought  a  few  hundred  men  to  the 
vicinity  of  South  Pass.  A  handful  of  towns  was 
established,  a  county  was  organized,  a  newspaper 
was  brought  into  life  at  Fort  Bridger.  If  the  railway 
had  not  appeared  at  the  same  time,  the  foundation 
for  a  territory  would  probably  have  been  too  slight. 
But  the  Union  Pacific,  which  had  ended  at  Julesburg 
early  in  1867,  extended  its  terminus  to  a  new  town, 
Cheyenne,  in  the  summer,  and  to  Laramie  City  in 
the  spring  of  1868. 

Cheyenne  was  laid  out  a  few  weeks  before  the 
Union  Pacific  advanced  to  its  site.  It  had  a  better 
prospect  of  life  than  had  most  of  the  mushroom 
cities  that  accompanied  the  westward  course  of  the 
railroad,  because  it  was  the  natural  junction  point 
for  Denver  trade.  Colorado  had  been  much  disap- 
pointed at  its  own  failure  to  induce  the  Union  Pacific 
managers  to  put  Denver  City  on  the  main  line  of 
the  road,  and  felt  injured  when  compelled  to  do  its 
business  through  Cheyenne.  But  just  because  of 
this,  Cheyenne  grew  in  the  autumn  of  1867  with  a 


302  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

rapidity  unusual  even  in  the  West.  It  was  not  an 
orderly  or  reputable  population  that  it  had  during 
the  first  months  of  its  existence,  but,  to  its  good 
fortune,  the  advance  of  the  road  to  Laramie  drew  off 
the  worst  of  the  floating  inhabitants  early  in  1868. 
Cheyenne  was  left  with  an  overlarge  town  site, 
but  with  some  real  excuse  for  existence.  Most  of 
the  terminal  towns  vanished  completely  when  the 
railroad  moved  on. 

A  new  territory  for  the  country  north  of  Colorado 
had  been  talked  about  as  early  as  1 86 1 .  Since  the  cre- 
ation of  Montana  territory  in  1864,  this  area  had  been 
attached,  obviously  only  temporarily,  to  Dakota. 
Now,  with  the  mining  and  railway  influences  at  work, 
the  population  made  appeal  to  the  Dakota  legislature 
and  to  Congress  for  independence.  ' '  Without  oppo- 
sition or  prolonged  discussion,"  as  Bancroft  puts  it, 
the  new  territory  was  created  by  Congress  in  July, 
1868.  It  was  called  Wyoming,  just  escaping  the 
names  of  Lincoln  and  Cheyenne,  and  received  as 
bounds  the  parallels  of  41°  and  45°,  and  the  meridians 
of  27°  and  34°,  west  of  Washington. 

For  several  years  after  the  Sioux  treaties  of  1868 
and  the  erection  of  Wyoming  territory,  the  Indians 
of  the  northern  plains  kept  the  peace.  The  routes  of 
travel  had  been  opened,  the  white  claim  to  the 
Powder  River  Valley  had  been  surrendered,  and_a 
great  northern  reserve  had  been  created  in  the 
Black  Hills  country  of  southern  Dakota.  All 
these,  by  lessening  contact,  removed  the  danger  of 


PEACE  COMMISSION  AND  THE  OPEN  WAY       303 

Indian  friction.  But  the  southern  tribes  were 
still  uneasy,  —  treacherous  or  ill-treated,  according 
as  the  sources  vary,  —  and  one  more  war  was  needed 
before  they  could  be  compelled  to  settle  down.. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
BLACK  KETTLE'S  LAST  RAID 

OF  the  four  classes  of  persons  whose  interrela- 
tions determined  the  condition  of  the  frontier,  none 
admitted  that  it  desired  to  provoke  Indian  wars. 
The  tribes  themselves  consistently  professed  a  wish 
to  be  allowed  to  remain  at  peace.  The  Indian 
agents  lost  their  authority  and  many  of  their  perqui- 
sites during  war  time.  The  army  and  the  frontiers- 
men denied  that  they  were  belligerent.  "I  assert," 
wrote  Custer,  "and  all  candid  persons  familiar 
with  the  subject  will  sustain  the  assertion,  that  of  all 
classes  of  our  population  the  army  and  the  people 
living  on  the  frontier  entertain  the  greatest  dread  of 
an  Indian  war,  and  are  willing  to  make  the  greatest 
sacrifices  to  avoid  its  horrors. "  To  fix  the  responsi- 
bility for  the  wars  which  repeatedly  occurred,  despite 
the  protestations  of  amiability  on  all  sides,  calls  for 
the  examination  of  individual  episodes  in  large  num- 
•ber.  It  is  easier  to  acquit  the  first  two  classes  than 
the  last  two.  There  are  enough  instances  in  which 
the  tribes  were  persuaded  to  promise  and  keep  the 
peace  to  establish  the  belief  that  a  policy  combining 
benevolence,  equity,  and  relentless  firmness  in  pun- 
ishing wrong-doers,  white  or  red,  could  have  main- 

304 


BLACK  KETTLE'S  LAST  RAID  305 

tained  friendly  relations  with  ease.  The  Indian 
agents  were  hampered  most  by  their  inability  to 
enforce  the  laws  intrusted  to  them  for  execution, 
and  by  the  slowness  of  the  Senate  in  ratifying  agree- 
ments and  of  Congress  in  voting  supplies.  The 
frontiersmen,  with  their  isolated  homesteads  lying 
open  to  surprise  and  destruction,  would  seem  to  be 
sincere  in  their  protestations;  yet  repeatedly  they 
thrust  themselves  as  squatters  upon  lands  of  un- 
quieted  Indian  title,  while  their  personal  relations 
with  the  red  men  were  commonly  marked  by  fear 
and  hatred.  The  army,  with  greater  honesty  and 
better  administration  than  the  Indian  Bureau, 
overdid  its  work,  being  unable  to  think  of  the  Ind- 
ians as  anything  but  public  enemies  and  treating 
them  with  an  arbitrary  curtness  that  would  have 
been  dangerous  even  among  intelligent  whites.  The 
history  of  the  southwest  Indians,  after  the  Sand 
Creek  massacre,  illustrates  well  how  tribes,  not  spe- 
cially ill-disposed,  became  the  victims  of  circum- 
stances which  led  to  their  destruction. 

After  the  battle  at  Sand  Creek,  the  southwest 
tribes  agreed  to  a  series  of  treaties  in  1865  by  which 
new  reserves  were  promised  them  on  the  borderland 
of  Kansas  and  Indian  Territory.  These  treaties 
were  so  amended  by  the  Senate  that  for  a  time 
the  tribes  had  no  admitted  homes  or  rights  save  the 
guaranteed  hunting  privileges  on  the  plains  south  of 
the  Platte.  They  seem  generally  to  have  been  peace- 
ful during  1866,  in  spite  of  the  rather  shabby  treat- 


306  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

ment  which  the  neglect  of  Congress  procured  for 
them.  In  1867  uneasiness  became  apparent.  Agent 
E.  W.  Wynkoop,  of  Sand  Creek  fame,  was  now  in 
charge  of  the  Arapaho,  Cheyenne,  and  Apache  tribes 
in  the  vicinity  of  Fort  Larned,  on  the  Santa  Fe  trail 
in  Kansas.  In  1866  they  had  "  complained  of  the 
government  not  having  fulfilled  its  promises  to  them, 
and  of  numerous  impositions  practised  upon  them 
by  the  whites."  Some  of  their  younger  braves  had 
gone  on  the  war-path.  But  Wynkoop  claimed  to 
have  quieted  them,  and  by  March,  1867,  thought 
that  they  were  "  well  satisfied  and  quiet,  and  anxious 
to  retain  the  peaceful  relations  now  existing." 

The  military  authorities  at  Fort  Dodge,  farther 
up  the  Arkansas  and  near  the  old  Santa  Fe  crossing, 
were  less  certain  than  Wynkoop  that  the  Indians 
meant  well.  Little  Raven,  of  the  Arapaho,  and 
Satanta,  " principal  chief"  of  the  Kiowa,  were  re- 
ported as  sending  in  insulting  messages  to  the  troops, 
ordering  them  to  cut  no  more  wood,  to  leave  the 
country,  to  keep  wagons  off  the  Santa  Fe  trail. 
Occasional  thefts  of  stock  and  forays  were  reported 
along  the  trail.  Custer  thought  that  there  was 
"positive  evidence  from  the  agents  themselves" 
that  the  Indians  were  guilty,  the  trouble  only  being 
that  Wynkoop  charged  the  guilt  on  the  Kiowa 
and  Comanche,  while  J.  H.  Leavenworth,  agent 
for  these  tribes,  asserted  their  innocence  and  accused 
the  wards  of  Wynkoop. 

The  Department  of  the  Missouri,  in  which  these 


BLACK  KETTLE'S  LAST  RAID  307 

tribes  resided,  was  under  the  command  of  Major- 
general  Winfield  Scott  Hancock  in  the  spring  of  1867. 
With  a  desire  to  promote  the  tranquillity  of  his  com- 
mand, Hancock  prepared  for  an  expedition  on  the 
plains  as  early  as  the  roads  would  permit.  He  wrote 
of  this  intention  to  both  of  the  agents,  asking  them 
to  accompany  him,  "to  show  that  the  officers  of  the 
government  are  acting  in  harmony."  His  object 
was  not  necessarily  war,  but  to  impress  upon  the 
Indians  his  ability  "to  chastise  any  tribes  who  may 
molest  people  who  are  travelling  across  the  plains." 
In  each  of  the  letters  he  listed  the  complaints  against 
the  respective  tribes  —  failure  to  deliver  murderers, 
outrages  on  the  Smoky  Hill  route  in  1866,  alliances 
with  the  Sioux,  hostile  incursions  into  Texas,  and 
the  specially  barbarous  Box  murder.  In  this  last 
affair  one  James  Box  had  been  murdered  by  the 
Kiowas,  and  his  wife  and  five  daughters  carried  off. 
The  youngest  of  these,  a  baby,  died  in  a  few  days,  the 
mother  stated,  and  they  "took  her  from  me  and 
threw  her  into  a  ravine."  Ultimately  the  mother 
and  three  of  the  children  were  ransomed  from  the 
Kiowas  after  Mrs.  Box  and  her  eldest  daughter, 
Margaret,  had  been  passed  around  from  chief  to  chief 
for  more  than  two  months.  Custer  wrote  up  this 
outrage  with  much  exaggeration,  but  the  facts  were 
bad  enough. 

With  both  agents  present,  Hancock  advanced  to 
Fort  Larned.  "It  is  uncertain  whether  war  will 
be  the  result  of  the  expedition  or  not,"  he  declared 


308  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

in  general  orders  of  March  26,  1867,  thus  admitting 
that  a  state  of  war  did  not  at  that  time  exist.  "It 
will  depend  upon  the  temper  and  behavior  of  the 
Indians  with  whom  we  may  come  in  contact.  We  go 
prepared  for  war  and  will  make  it  if  a  proper  occasion 
presents. "  The  tribes  which  he  proposed  to  visit 
were  roaming  indiscriminately  over  the  country 
traversed  by  the  Santa  Fe  trail,  in  accordance  with 
the  treaties  of  1865,  which  permitted  them,  until  they 
should  be  settled  upon  their  reserves,  to  hunt  at 
will  over  the  plains  south  of  the  Platte,  subject  only 
to  the  restriction  that  they  must  not  camp  within  ten 
miles  of  the  main  roads  and  trails.  It  was  Hancock's 
intention  to  enforce  this  last  provision,  and  more, 
to  insist  "upon  their  keeping  off  the  main  lines  of 
travel,  where  their  presence  is  calculated  to  bring 
about  collisions  with  the  whites.'7 

The  first  conference  with  the  Indians  was  held  at 
Fort  Lamed,  where  the  "principal  chiefs  of  the  Dog 
Soldiers  of  the  Cheyennes"  had  been  assembled  by 
Agent  Wynkoop.  Leavenworth  thought  that  the 
chiefs  here  had  been  very  friendly,  but  Wynkoop 
criticised  the  council  as  being  held  after  sunset, 
which  was  contrary  to  Indian  custom  and  calculated 
"to  make  them  feel  suspicious."  At  this  council 
General  Hancock  reprimanded  the  chiefs  and  told 
them  that  he  would  visit  their  village,  occupied  by 
themselves  and  an  almost  equal  number  of  Sioux ; 
which  village,  said  Wynkoop,  "was  35  miles  from 
any  travelled  road."  "Why  don't  he  confine  the 


BLACK  KETTLE'S  LAST  RAID  309 

troops  to  the  great  line  of  travel  ?"  demanded  Leaven- 
worth,  whose  wards  had  the  same  privilege  of  hunt- 
ing south  of  the  Arkansas  that  those  of  Wynkoop 
had  between  the  Arkansas  and  the  Platte.  So  long 
as  they  camped  ten  miles  from  the  roads,  this  was 
their  right. 

Contrary  to  Wynkoop's  urgings,  Hancock  led  his 
command  from  Fort  Lamed  on  April  13,  1867, 
moving  for  the  main  Arapaho,  Cheyenne,  and  Sioux 
village  on  Pawnee  Fork,  thirty-five  miles  west  of  the 
post.  With  cavalry,  infantry,  artillery,  and  a  pon- 
toon train,  it  was  hard  for  him  to  assume  any 
other  appearance  than  that  of  war.  Even  the 
General's  particular  assurance,  as  Custer  puts  it, 
"that  he  was  not  there  to  make  war,  but  to  promote 
peace,"  failed  to  convince  the  chiefs  who  had  at- 
tended the  night  council.  It  was  not  a  pleasant 
march.  The  snow  was  nearly  a  foot  deep,  fodder  was 
scarce,  and  the  Indian  disposition  was  uncertain. 
Only  a  few  had  come  in  to  the  Fort  Lamed  conference, 
and  none  appeared  at  camp  after  the  first  day's 
march.  After  this  refusal  to  meet  him,  Hancock 
marched  on  to  the  village,  in  front  of  which  he 
found  some  three  hundred  Indians  drawn  up  in 
battle  array.  Fighting  seemed  imminent,  but  at 
last  Roman  Nose,  Bull  Bear,  and  other  chiefs  met 
Hancock  between  the  lines  and  agreed  upon  an  even- 
ing conference.  It  developed  that  the  men  alone 
were  left  at  the  Indian  camp.  Women  and  children, 
with  all  the  movables  they  could  handle,  had  fled  out 


310  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

upon  the  snowy  plains  at  the  approach  of  the  troops. 
Fear  of  another  Sand  Creek  had  caused  it,  said 
Wynkoop.  But  Hancock  chose  to  regard  this  as 
evidence  of  a  treacherous  disposition,  demanded  that 
the  fugitives  return  at  once,  and  insisted  upon  en- 
camping near  the  village  against  the  protest  of  the 
chiefs.  Instead  of  bringing  back  their  people,  the 
men  themselves  abandoned  the  village  that  evening, 
while  Hancock,  learning  of  the  flight,  surrounded 
and  took  possession  of  it.  The  next  morning, 
April  15,  Ouster  was  sent  with  cavalry  in  pursuit 
of  the  flying  bands.  Depredations  occurring  to  the 
north  of  Pawnee  Fork  within  a  day  or  two,  Hancock 
burned  the  village  in  retaliation  and  proceeded  to 
Fort  Dodge.  Wynkoop  insisted  that  the  Cheyenne 
and  Arapaho  had  been  entirely  innocent  and  that 
these  injuries  had  been  committed  by  the  Sioux.  "I 
have  no  doubt/'  he  wrote,  "but  that  they  think  that 
war  has  been  forced  upon  them." 

When  Hancock  started  upon  the  plains,  there  was 
no  war,  but  there  was  no  doubt  about  its  existence 
as  the  spring  advanced.  When  the  Peace  Com- 
missioners of  this  year  came  with  their  protestations 
of  benevolence  for  the  Great  Father,  it  was  small 
wonder  that  the  Cheyenne  and  Arapaho  had  to  be 
coaxed  into  the  camp  on  the  Medicine  Lodge  Creek. 
And  when  the  treaties  there  made  failed  of  prompt 
execution  by  the  United  States,  the  war  naturally 
dragged  on  in  a  desultory  way  during  1868  and  1869. 

In  the  spring  of    1868  General   Sheridan,  who 


BLACK  KETTLE'S  LAST  RAID  311 

had  succeeded  Hancock  in  command  of  the  Depart- 
ment of  the  Missouri,  visited  the  posts  at  Fort  Larned 
and  Fort  Dodge.  Here  on  Pawnee  and  Walnut 
creeks  most  of  the  southwest  Indians  were  congre- 
gated. Wynkoop,  in  February  and  April,  reported 
them  as  happy  and  quiet.  They  were  destitute, 
to  be  sure,  and  complained  that  the  Commissioners 
at  Medicine  Lodge  had  promised  them  arms  and 
ammunition  which  had  not  been  delivered.  Indeed, 
the  treaty  framed  there  had  not  yet  been  ratified. 
But  he  believed  it  possible  to  keep  them  contented 
and  wean  them  from  their  old  habits.  To  Sheridan 
the  situation  seemed  less  happy.  He  declined  to 
hold  a  council  with  the  complaining  chiefs  on  the 
ground  that  the  whole  matter  was  yet  in  the  hands 
of  the  Peace  Commission,  but  he  saw  that  the  young 
men  were  chafing  and  turbulent  and  that  frontier 
hostilities  would  accompany  the  summer  buffalo  hunt. 
There  is  little  doubt  of  the  destitution  which  pre- 
vailed among  the  plains  tribes  at  this  time.  The 
rapid  diminution  of  game  was  everywhere  observ- 
able. The  annuities  at  best  afforded  only  partial 
relief,  while  Congress  was  irregular  in  providing 
funds.  Three  times  during  the  spring  the  Commis- 
sioner prodded  the  Secretary  of  the  Interior,  who 
in  turn  prodded  Congress,  with  the  result  that 
instead  of  the  $1,000,000  asked  for  $500,000  were, 
in  July,  1868,  granted  to  be  spent  not  by  the  Indian 
Office,  but  by  the  War  Department.  Three  weeks 
later  General  Sherman  created  an  organization  for 


312  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

distributing  this  charity,  placing  the  district  south 
of  Kansas  in  command  of  General  Hazen.  Mean- 
while, the  time  for  making  the  spring  issues  of 
annuity  goods  had  come.  It  was  ordered  in  June 
that  no  arms  or  ammunition  should  be  given  to  the 
Cheyenne  and  Arapaho  because  of  their  recent 
bad  conduct;  but  in  July  the  Commissioner,  influ- 
enced by  the  great  dissatisfaction  on  the  part  of  the 
tribes,  and  fearing  "that  these  Indians,  by  reason  of 
such  non-delivery  of  arms,  ammunition,  and  goods, 
will  commence  hostilities  against  the  whites  in  their 
vicinity,  modified  the  order  and  telegraphed  Agent 
Wynkoop  that  he  might  use  his  own  discretion  in  the 
matter:  "If  you  are  satisfied  that  the  issue  of  the 
arms  and  ammunition  is  necessary  to  preserve  the 
peace,  and  that  no  evil  will  result  from  their  delivery, 
let  the  Indians  have  them."  A  few  days  previously 
on  July  20,  Wynkoop  had  issued  the  ordinary  sup- 
plies to  his  Arapaho  and  Apache,  his  Cheyenne 
refusing  to  take  anything  until  they  could  have  the 
guns  as  well.  "They  felt  much  disappointed,  but 
gave  no  evidence  of  being  angry  .  .  .  and  would 
wait  with  patience  for  the  Great  Father  to  take  pity 
upon  them."  The  permission  from  the  Commis- 
sioner was  welcomed  by  the  agent,  and  approved 
by  Thomas  Murphy,  his  superintendent.  Murphy 
had  been  ordered  to  Fort  Lamed  to  reenforce  Wyn- 
koop's  judgment.  He  held  a  council  on  August  1 
with  Little  Raven  and  the  Arapaho  and  Apache, 
and  issued  them  their  arms.  "Raven  and  the  other 


BLACK  KETTLE'S  LAST  RAID  313 

chiefs  then  promised  that  these  arms  should  never 
be  used  against  the  whites,  and  Agent  Wynkoop 
then  delivered  to  the  Arapahoes  160  pistols,  80 
Lancaster  rifles,  12  kegs  of  powder,  1J  keg  of  lead, 
and  15,000  caps;  and  to  the  Apaches  he  gave  40 
pistols,  20  Lancaster  rifles,  3  kegs  of  powder, 
J  keg  of  lead,  and  5000  caps."  The  Cheyenne 
came  in  a  few  days  later  for  their  share,  which 
Wynkoop  handed  over  on  the  9th.  "They  were 
delighted  at  receiving  the  goods/'  he  reported, 
"particularly  the  arms  and  ammunition,  and 
never  before  have  I  known  them  to  be  better 
satisfied  and  express  themselves  as  being  so  well 
contented."  The  fact  that  within  three  days  mur- 
ders were  committed  by  the  Cheyenne  on  the  Solo- 
mon and  Saline  forks  throws  doubt  upon  the  sincer- 
ity of  their  protestations. 

The  war  party  which  commenced  the  active  hostil- 
ities  of  1868  at  a  time  so  well  calculated  t  to  throw 
disci-edit  upon  the  wisdom  of  the  Indian  Office, 
had  left  the  Cheyenne  village  early  in  August, 
" smarting  under  their  supposed  wrongs,"  as  Wyn- 
koop puts  it.  They  were  mostly  Cheyenne,  with 
a  small  number  of  Arapaho  and  a  few  visiting 
Sioux,  about  200  in  all.  Little  Raven's  son  and 
a  brother  of  White  Antelope,  who  died  at  Sand 
Creek,  were  with  them ;  Black  Kettle  is  said  to  have 
been  their  leader.  On  August  7  some  of  them 
spent  the  evening  at  Fort  Hays,  where  they  held  a 
powwow  at  the  post.  "Black  Kettle  loves  his  white 


314  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

soldier  brothers,  and  his  heart  feels  glad  when  he 
meets  them  and  shakes  their  hands  in  friendship/' 
is  the  way  the  post-trader,  Hill  P.  Wilson,  reported 
his  speech.  "The  white  soldiers  ought  to  be  glad 
all  the  time,  because  their  ponies  are  so  big  and  so 
strong,  and  because  they  have  so  many  guns  and 
so  much  to  eat.  .  .  .  All  other  Indians  may  take 
the  war  trail,  but  Black  Kettle  will  forever  keep 
friendship  with  his  white  brothers."  Three  nights 
later  they  began  to  kill  on  Saline  River,  and  on  the 
llth  they  crossed  to  the  Solomon.  Some  fifteen 
settlers  were  killed,  and  five  women  were  carried  off. 
Here  this  particular  raid  stopped,  for  the  news 
had  got  abroad,  and  the  frontier  was  instantly  in 
arms.  Various  isolated  forays  occurred,  so  that 
Sheridan  was  sure  he  had  a  general  war  upon  his 
hands.  He  believed  nearly  all  the  young  men  of 
the  Cheyenne,  Kiowa,  Arapaho,  and  Comanche  to 
be  in  the  war  parties,  the  old  women,  men,  and 
children  remaining  around  the  posts  and  profess- 
ing solicitous  friendship.  There  were  6000  poten- 
tial warriors  in  all,  and  that  he  might  better  devote 
himself  to  suppressing  them,  Sheridan  followed  the 
Kansas  Pacific  to  its  terminus  at  Fort  Hays  and  there 
established  his  headquarters  in  the  field. 

The  war  of  1868  ranged  over  the  whole  frontier 
south  of  the  Platte  trail.  It  influenced  the  Peace 
Commission,  at  its  final  meeting  in  October,  1868, 
to  repudiate  many  of  the  pacific  theories  of  January 
and  recommend  that  the  Indians  be  handed  over 


BLACK   KETTLE'S  LAST  RAID  315 

to  the  War  Department.  Sheridan,  who  had  led 
the  Commission  to  this  conclusion,  was  in  the  field 
directing  the  movement.  His  policy  embraced  a 
concentration  of  the  peaceful  bands  south  of  the 
Arkansas,  and  a  relentless  war  against  the  rest.  It 
is  fairly  clear  that  the  war  need  not  have  come,  had 
it  not  been  for  the  cross-purposes  ever  apparent  be- 
tween the  Indian  Office  and  the  War  Department, 
and  even  within  the  War  Department  itself. 

At  Fort  Hays,  Sheridan  prepared  for  war.  He  had, 
at  the  start,  about  2600  men,  nearly  equally  divided 
among  cavalry  and  infantry.  Believing  his  force 
too  small  to  cover  the  whole  plains  between  Fort 
Hays  and  Denver,  he  called  for  reinforcements, 
receiving  a  part  of  the  Fifth  Cavalry  and  a  regiment 
of  Kansas  volunteers.  With  enthusiasm  this  last 
addition  was  raised  among  the  frontiersmen,  where 
Indian  fighting  was  popular;  the  governor  of  the 
state  resigned  his  office  to  become  its  colonel. 
September  and  October  were  occupied  in  getting  the 
troops  together,  keeping  the  trails  open  for  traffic, 
and  establishing,  about  a  hundred  miles  south  of 
Fort  Dodge,  a  rendezvous  which  was  known  as 
Camp  Supply.  It  was  the  intention  to  protect 
the  frontier  during  the  autumn,  and  to  follow  up 
the  Indian  villages  after  winter  had  fallen,  catching 
the  tribes  when  they  would  be  concentrated  and  at  a 
disadvantage. 

On  October  15,  1868,  Sherman,  just  from  the 
Chicago  meeting  of  the  Peace  Commissioners 


316  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

and  angry  because  he  had  there  been  told  that  the 
army  wanted  war,  gave  Sheridan  a  free  hand  for  the 
winter  campaign.  "As  to  ' extermination/  it  is 
for  the  Indians  themselves  to  determine.  We  don't 
want  to  exterminate  or  even  to  fight  them.  .  .  . 
The  present  war  .  .  .  was  begun  and  carried  on  by 
the  Indians  in  spite  of  our  entreaties  and  in  spite 
of  our  warnings,  and  the  only  question  to  us  is, 
whether  we  shall  allow  the  progress  of  our  western 
settlements  to  be  checked,  and  leave  the  Indians 
free  to  pursue  their  bloody  career,  or  accept  their 
war  and  fight  them.  .  .  .  We  .  .  .  accept  the  war 
.  .  .  and  hereby  resolve  to  make  its  end  final.  .  .  . 
I  will  say  nothing  and  do  nothing  to  restrain  our 
troops  from  doing  what  they  deem  proper  on  the 
spot,  and  will  allow  no  mere  vague  general  charges 
of  cruelty  and  inhumanity  to  tie  their  hands,  but 
will  use  all  the  powers  confided  to  me  to  the  end 
that  these  Indians,  the  enemies  of  our  race  and  of  our 
civilization,  shall  not  again  be  able  to  begin  and 
carry  on  their  barbarous  warfare  on  any  kind  of  pre- 
text that  they  may  choose  to  allege." 

The  plan  of  campaign  provided  that  the  main 
column,  Ouster  in  immediate  command,  should 
march  from  Fort  Hays  directly  against  the  Indians, 
by  way  of  Camp  Supply;  two  smaller  columns 
were  to  supplement  this,  one  marching  in  on  Indian 
Territory  from  New  Mexico,  and  the  other  from 
Fort  Lyon  on  the  old  Sand  Creek  reserve.  Detach- 
ments of  the  chief  column  began  to  move  in  the 


BLACK  KETTLE'S  LAST  RAID  317 

middle  of  November,  Custer  reaching  the  depot  at 
Camp  Supply  ahead  of  the  rest,  while  the  Kansas 
volunteers  lost  themselves  in  heavy  snow-storms. 
On  November  23  Custer  was  ordered  out  of  Camp 
Supply,  on  the  north  fork  of  the  Canadian,  to  follow 
a  fresh  trail  which  led  southwest  towards  the  Washita 
River,  near  the  eastern  line  of  Texas.  He  pushed  on 
as  rapidly  as  twelve  inches  of  snow  would  allow, 
discovering  in  the  early  morning  of  November  27  a 
large  camp  in  the  valley  of  the  Washita. 

It  was  Black  Kettle's  camp  of  Cheyenne  and 
Arapaho  that  they  had  found  in  a  strip  of  heavy 
timber  along  the  river.  After  reconnoitring  Custer 
divided  his  force  into  four  columns  for  simultaneous 
attacks  upon  the  sleeping  village.  At  daybreak 
"  my  men  charged  the  village  and  reached  the  lodges 
before  the  Indians  were  aware  of  our  presence.  The 
moment  the  charge  was  ordered  the  band  struck 
up  '  Garry  Owen,'  and  with  cheers  that  strongly 
reminded  me  of  scenes  during  the  war,  every  trooper, 
led  by  his  officer,  rushed  towards  the  village."  For 
several  hours  a  promiscuous  fight  raged  up  and  down 
the  ravine,  with  Indians  everywhere  taking  to  cover, 
only  to  be  prodded  out  again.  Fifty-one  lodges  in  all 
fell  into  Custer's  hands;  103  dead  Indians,  includ- 
ing Black  Kettle  himself,  were  found  later.  "We 
captured  in  good  condition  875  horses,  ponies,  and 
mules;  241  saddles,  some  of  very  fine  and  costly 
workmanship ;  573  buffalo  robes,  390  buffalo  skins 
for  lodges,  160  untanned  robes,  210  axes,  140 


318  THE   LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

hatchets,  35  revolvers,  47  rifles,  535  pounds  of 
powder,  1050  pounds  of  lead,  4000  arrows  and  arrow- 
heads, 75  spears,  90  bullet  moulds,  35  bows  and 
quivers,  12  shields,  300  pounds  of  bullets,  775 
lariats,  940  buckskin  saddle-bags,  470  blankets, 
93  coats,  700  pounds  of  tobacco." 

As  the  day  advanced,  Ouster's  triumph  seemed 
likely  to  turn  into  defeat.  The  Cheyenne  village 
proved  to  be  only  the  last  of  a  long  string  of  villages 
that  extended  down  the  Washita  for  fifteen  miles  or 
more,  and  whose  braves  rode  up  by  hundreds  to  see 
the  fight.  A  general  engagement  was  avoided,  how- 
ever, and  with  better  luck  and  more  discretion  than 
he  was  one  day  to  have,  Custer  marched  back  to 
Camp  Supply  on  December  3,  his  band  playing 
gayly  the  tune  of  battle,  "  Garry  Owen."  The 
commander  in  his  triumphal  procession  was  followed 
by  his  scouts  and  trailers,  and  the  captives  of  his 
prowess  —  a  long  train  of  Indian  widows  and  orphans. 

The  decisive  blow  which  broke  the  power  of  the 
southwest  tribes  had  been  struck,  and  Black  Kettle 
had  carried  on  his  last  raid,  —  if  indeed  he  had  carried 
on  this  one  at  all  —  but  as  the  reports  came  in  it 
became  evident  that  the  merits  of  the  triumph  were 
in  doubt.  The  Eastern  humanitarians  were  shocked 
at  the  cold-blooded  attack  upon  a  camp  of  sleeping 
men,  women,  and  children,  forgetting  that  if  Indians 
were  to  be  fought  this  was  the  most  successful  way  to 
do  it,  and  was  no  shock  to  the  Indians'  own  ideals 
of  warfare  and  attack.  The  deeper  question  was 


BLACK  KETTLE'S  LAST  RAID  319 

whether  this  camp  was  actually  hostile,  whether  the 
tribes  had  not  abandoned  the  war-path  in  good  faith, 
whether  it  was  fair  to  crush  a  tribe  that  with  apparent 
earnestness  begged  peace  because  it  could  not  control 
the  excesses  of  some  of  its  own  braves.  It  became 
certain,  at  least,  that  the  War  Department  itself 
had  fallen  victim  to  that  vice  with  which  it  had  so 
often  reproached  the  Indian  Office  —  failure  to 
produce  a  harmony  of  action  among  several  branches 
of  the  service. 

The  Indian  Office  had  no  responsibility  for  the 
battle  of  the  Washita.  It  had  indeed  issued  arms 
to  the  Cheyenne  in  August,  but  only  with  the  ap- 
proval of  the  military  officer  commanding  Forts 
Lamed  and  Dodge,  General  Alfred  Sully,  "an 
officer  of  long  experience  in  Indian  affairs."  In  the 
early  summer  all  the  tribes  had  been  near  these  forts 
and  along  the  Santa  Fe  trail.  After  Congress  had 
voted  its  half  million  to  feed  the  hungry,  Sherman 
had  ordered  that  the  peaceful  hungry  among  the 
southern  tribes  should  be  moved  from  this  locality 
to  the  vicinity  of  old  Fort  Cobb,  in  the  west  end  of 
Indian  Territory  on  the  Washita  River. 

During  September,  while  Sheridan  was  gathering 
his  armament  at  Fort  Hays,  Sherman  was  ordering 
the  agents  to  take  their  peaceful  charges  to  Fort 
Cobb.  With  the  major  portion  of  the  tribes  at  war 
it  would  be  impossible  for  the  troops  to  make  any 
discrimination  unless  there  should  be  an  absolute 
separation  between  the  well-disposed  and  the  war- 


320  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

like.  He  proposed  to  allow  the  former  a  reasonable 
time  to  get  to  their  new  abode  and  then  beg  the 
President  for  an  order  "  declaring  all  Indians  who 
remain  outside  of  their  lawful  reservations"  to  be 
outlaws.  He  believed  that  by  going  to  war  these 
tribes  had  violated  their  hunting  rights.  Superin- 
tendent Murphy  thought  he  saw  another  Sand 
Creek  in  these  preparations.  Here  were  the  tribes 
ordered  to  Fort  Cobb ;  their  fall  annuity  goods  were 
on  the  way  thither  for  distribution;  and  now  the 
military  column  was  marching  in  the  same  direction. 

In  the  meantime  General  W.  B.  Hazen  had  arrived 
at  Fort  Cobb  on  November  7  and  had  immediately 
voiced  his  fear  that  "  General  Sheridan,  acting  under 
the  impression  of  hostiles,  may  attack  bands  of  Co- 
manche  and  Kiowa  before  they  reach  this  point. " 
He  found,  however,  most  of  these  tribes,  who  had  not 
gone  to  war  this  season,  encamped  within  reach  on 
the  Canadian  and  Washita  rivers,  —  5000  of  the  Co- 
manche  and  1500  of  the  Kiowa.  Within  a  few  days 
Cheyenne  and  Arapaho  began  to  join  the  settle- 
ments in  the  district,  Black  Kettle  bringing  in  his 
band  to  the  Washita,  forty  miles  east  of  Antelope 
Hills,  and  coming  in  person  to  Fort  Cobb  for  an 
interview  with  General  Hazen  on  November  20. 

"I  have  always  done  my  best,"  he  protested,  "to 
keep  my  young  men  quiet,  but  some  will  not  listen, 
and  since  the  fighting  began  I  have  not  been  able  to 
keep  them  all  at  home.  But  we  all  want  peace." 
To  which  added  Big  Mouth,  of  the  Arapaho:  "I 


BLACK  KETTLE'S  LAST   RAID  321 

came  to  you  because  I  wish  to  do  right.  ...  I  do  not 
want  war,  and  my  people  do  not,  but  although  we 
have  come  back  south  of  the  Arkansas,  the  soldiers 
follow  us  and  continue  fighting,  and  we  want  you  to 
send  out  and  stop  these  soldiers  from  coming  against 


us." 


To  these,  General  Hazen,  fearful  as  he  was  of  an 
unjust  attack,  responded  with  caution.  Sherman 
had  spoken  of  Fort  Cobb  in  his  orders  to  Sheridan,  as 
"  aimed  to  hold  out  the  olive  branch  with  one  hand 
and  the  sword  in  the*  other.  But  it  is  not  thereby 
intended  that  any  hostile  Indians  shall  make  use 
of  that  establishment  as  a  refuge  from  just  punish- 
ment for  acts  already  done.  Your  military  control 
over  that  reservation  is  as  perfect  as  over  Kansas,  and 
if  hostile  Indians  retreat  within  that  reservation,  ... 
they  may  be  followed  even  to  Fort  Cobb,  captured, 
and  punished."  It  is  difficult  to  see  what  could 
constitute  the  fact  of  peaceful  intent  if  coming  in 
to  Fort  Cobb  did  not.  But  Hazen  gave  to  Black 
Kettle  cold  comfort:  "I  am  sent  here  as  a  peace 
chief;  all  here  is  to  be  peace;  but  north  of  the 
Arkansas  is  General  Sheridan,  the  great  war  chief,  and 
I  do  not  control  him ;  and  he  has  all  the  soldiers  who 
are  fighting  the  Arapahoes  and  Cheyennes.  ...  If 
the  soldiers  come  to  fight,  you  must  remember  they 
are  not  from  me,  but  from  that  great  war  chief,  and 
with  him  you  must  make  peace.  ...  I  cannot  stop 
the  war.  .  .  .  You  must  not  come  in  again  unless  I 
send  for  you,  and  you  must  keep  well  out  beyond 


322  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

the  friendly  Kiowas  and  Comanches. "  So  he  sent 
the  suitors  away  and  wrote,  on  November  22,  to 
Sherman  for  more  specific  instructions  covering  these 
cases.  He  believed  that  Black  Kettle  and  Big  Mouth 
were  themselves  sincere,  but  doubted  their  control 
over  their  bands.  These  were  the  bands  which 
Custer  destroyed  before  the  week  was  out,  and  it  is 
probable  that  during  the  fight  they  were  reenforced 
by  braves  from  the  friendly  lodges  of  Satanta's 
Kiowa  and  Little  Raven's  Arapaho. 

Whatever  might  have  been  a  wise  policy  in  treating 
semi-hostile  Indian  tribes,  this  one  was  certainly  un- 
satisfactory. It  is  doubtful  whether  the  war  was  ever 
so  great  as  Sherman  imagined  it.  The  injured  tribes 
were  unquestionably  drawn  to  Fort  Cobb  by  a  desire 
for  safety;  the  army  was  in  the  position  of  seeming 
to  use  the  olive  branch  to  assemble  the  Indians  in  or- 
der that  the  sword  might  the  better  disperse  them. 
There  is  reasonable  doubt  whether  Black  Kettle 
had  anything  to  do  with  the  forays.  Murphy  be- 
lieved in  him  and  cited  many  evidences  of  his  friendly 
disposition,  while  Wynkoop  asserted  positively  that 
he  had  been  encamped  on  Pawnee  Fork  all  through 
the  time  when  he  was  alleged  to  have  been  committing 
depredations  on  the  Saline.  The  army  alone  had 
been  no  more  successful  in  producing  obvious  justice 
than  the  army  and  Indian  Office  together  had  been. 
Yet  whatever  the  merits  of  the  case,  the  power  of  the 
Cheyenne  and  their  neighbors  was  permanently  gone. 

During  the  winter  of  1868-1869  Sheridan's  army 


BLACK  KETTLE'S  LAST  RAID  323 

remained  in  the  vicinity  of  Fort  Cobb,  gathering  the 
remnants  of  the  shattered  tribes  in  upon  their  reser- 
vation. The  Kiowa  and  Comanche  were  placed  at 
last  on  the  lands  awarded  them  at  the  Medicine  Lodge 
treaties,  while  the  Arapaho  and  Cheyenne  once 
more  had  their  abiding-place  changed  in  August,  1869, 
and  were  settled  down  along  the  upper  waters  of  the 
Washita,  around  the  valley  of  their  late  defeat. 

The  long  controversy  between  the  War  and  Interior 
departments  over  the  management  of  the  tribes  en- 
tered upon  a  new.  stage  with  the  inauguration  of 
Grant  in  1869.  One  of  the  earliest  measures  of  his 
administration  was  a  bill  erecting  a  board  of  civil- 
ian Indian  commissioners  to  advise  the  Indian  De- 
partment and  promote  the  civilization  of  the  tribes. 
A  generous  grant  of  two  millions  accompanied  the 
act.  More  care  was  used  in  the  appointment  of 
agents  than  had  hitherto  been  taken,  and  the  im- 
mediate results  seemed  good  when  the  Commissioner 
wrote  his  annual  report  in  December,  1869.  But  the 
worst  of  the  troubles  with  the  Indians  of  the  plains 
was  over,  so  that  without  special  effort  peace  could 
now  have  been  the  result. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   FIRST   OF   THE   RAILWAYS 

TWENTY  years  before  the  great  tribes  of  the  plains 
made  their  last  stand  in  front  of  the  invading  white 
man  overland  travel  had  begun;  ten  years  before, 
Congress,  under  the  inspiration  of  the  prophetic 
Whitney  and  the  leadership  of  more  practical  men, 
had  provided  for  a  survey  of  railroad  routes  along 
the  trails;  on  the  eve  of  the  struggle  the  earliest  con- 
tinental railway  had  received  its  charter  ;^and  the 
struggle  had  temporarily  ceased  while  Congress,  in 
1867,  sent  out  its  Peace  Commission  to  prepare  an 
open  way.  That  the  tribes  must  yield  was  as  inevi- 
table as  it  was  that  their  yielding  must  be  ungracious 
and  destructive  to  them.  Too  weak  to  compel  their 
enemy  to  respect  their  rights,  and  uncertain  what  their 
rights  were,  they  were  too  low  in  intelligence  to  realize 
that  the  more  they  struggled,  the  worse  would  be  their 
suffering.  So  they  struggled  on,  during  the  years  in 
which  the  iron  band  was  put  across  the  continent. 
Its  completion  and  their  subjection  came  in  1869. 

After  years  of  tedious  debate  the  earliest  of  the 
Pacific  railways  was  chartered  in  1862.  The  with- 
drawal of  southern  claims  had  made  possible  an 
agreement  upon  a  route,  while  the  spirit  of  nationality 

324 


THE  FIRST  OF  THE  RAILWAYS  325 

engendered  by  the  Civil  War  gave  to  the  project  its 
final  impetus.  Under  the  management  of  the  Cen- 
tral Pacific  of  California,  the  Union  Pacific,  and  two 
or  three  border  railways,  provision  was  made  for  a 
road  from  the  Iowa  border  to  California.  Land  grants 
and  bond  subsidies  were  for  two  years  dangled 
before  the  capitalists  of  America  in  the  vain  attempt 
to  entice  them  to  construct  it.  Only  after  these 
were  increased  in  1864  did  active  organization  begin, 
while  at  the  end  of  1865  but  forty  miles  of  the  Union 
Pacific  had  been  built. 

Building  a  railroad  from  the  Missouri  River  to  the 
Pacific  Ocean  was  easily  the  greatest  engineering  feat 
that  America  had  undertaken.  In  their  day  the 
Cumberland  Road,  and  the  Erie  Canal,  and  the  Penn- 
sylvania Portage  Railway  had  ranked  among  the 
American  wonders,  but  none  of  these  had  been  ac- 
companied by  the  difficult  problems  that  bristled 
along  the  eighteen  hundred  miles  of  track  that  must 
be  laid  across  plain  and  desert,  through  hostile  Indian 
country  and  over  mountains.  Worse  yet,  the  road 
could  hope  for  little  aid  from  the  country  through 
which  it  ran.  Except  for  the  small  colonies  at  Carson, 
Salt  Lake,  and  Denver,  the  last  of  which  it  missed  by 
a  hundred  miles,  its  course  lay  through  unsettled 
wilderness  for  nearly  the  whole  distance.  Like  the 
trusses  of  a  cantilever,  its  advancing  ends  projected 
themselves  across  the  continent,  relying,  up  to  the 
moment  of  joining,  upon  the  firm  anchorage  of  the 
termini  in  the  settled  lands  of  Iowa  and  California. 


326  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Equally  trying,  though  different  in  variety,  were  the 
difficulties  attendant  upon  construction  at  either  end. 
The  impetus  which  Judah  had  given  to  the  Central 
Pacific  had  started  the  western  end  of  the  system 
two  years  ahead  of  the  eastern,  but  had  not  produced 
great  results  at  first.  It  was  hard  work  building  east 
into  the  Sierra  Nevadas,  climbing  the  gullies,  bridg- 
ing, tunnelling,  filling,  inch  by  inch,  to  keep  the  grade 
down  and  the  curvature  out.  Twenty  miles  a  year 
only  were  completed  in  1863,  1864,  and  1865,  thirty 
in  1866,  and  forty-six  in  1867  —  one  hundred  and 
thirty-six  miles  during  the  first  five  years  of  work. 
Nature  had  done  her  best  to  impede  the  progress  of 
the  road  by  thrusting  mountains  and  valleys  across 
its  route.  But  she  had  covered  the  mountains  with 
timber  and  filled  them  with  stone,  so  that  materials  of 
construction  were  easily  accessible  along  all  of  the 
costliest  part  of  the  line.  Bridges  and  trestles  could 
be  built  anywhere  with  local  material.  The  labor 
problem  vexed  the  Central  Pacific  managers  at  the 
start.  It  was  a  scanty  and  inefficient  supply  of 
workmen  that  existed  in  California  when  construction 
began.  Like  all  new  countries,  California  possessed 
more  work  than  workmen.  Economic  independence 
was  to  be  had  almost  for  the  asking.  Free  land  and 
fertile  soil  made  it  unnecessary  for  men  to  work  for 
hire.  The  slight  results  of  the  first  five  years  were 
due  as  much  to  lack  of  labor  as  to  refractory  roadway 
or  political  opposition.  But  by  1865  the  employ- 
ment of  Chinese  laborers  began.  Coolies  imported  by 


THE  FIRST  OF  THE  RAILWAYS  327 

the  thousand  and  ably  directed  by  Charles  Crocker, 
who  was  the  most  active  constructor,  brought 
a  new  rapidity  into  construction.  "  I  used  to  go 
up  and  down  that  road  in  my  car  like  a  mad 
bull,"  Crocker  dictated  to  Bancroft's  stenographer, 
"  stopping  along  wherever  there  was  anything  amiss, 
and  raising  Old  Nick  with  the  boys  that  were  not  up 
to  time."  With  roadbed  once  graded  new  troubles 
began.  California  could  manufacture  no  iron.  Roll- 
ing stock  and  rails  had  to  be  imported  from  Europe 
or  the  East,  and  came  to  San  Francisco  after  the 
costly  sea  voyage,  via  Panama  or  the  Horn.  But 
the  men  directing  the  Central  Pacific  —  Stanford, 
Crocker,  Huntington,  and  the  rest  —  rose  to  the  diffi- 
culties, and  once  they  had  passed  the  mountains,  fairly 
romped  across  the  Nevada  desert  in  the  race  for  sub- 
sidies. 

The  eastern  end  started  nearer  to  a  base  of  supplies 
than  did  the  California  terminus,  yet  until  1867  no 
railroad  from  the  East  reached  Council  Bluffs,  where 
the  President  had  determined  that  the  Union  Pacific 
should  begin.  There  had  been  railway  connection 
to  the  Missouri  River  at  St.  Joseph  since  1859,  and 
various  lines  were  hurrying  across  Iowa  in  the  sixties, 
but  for  more  than  two  years  of  construction  the  Union 
Pacific  had  to  get  rolling  stock  and  iron  from  the 
Missouri  steamers  or  the  laborious  prairie  schooners. 
Until  its  railway  connection  was  established  its 
difficulty  in  this  respect  was  only  less  great  than  that 
of  the  Central  Pacific.  The  compensation  of  the 


328  THE   LAST  .AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

Union  Pacific  came,  however,  in  its  roadbed.  Fol- 
lowing the  old  Platte  trail,  flat  and  smooth  as  the 
best  highways,  its  construction  gangs  could  do  the  light 
grading  as  rapidly  as  the  finished  single  track  could 
deliver  the  rails  at  its  growing  end.  But  for  the  need- 
ful culverts  and  trestles  there  was  little  material  at 
hand.  The  willows  and  cottonwood  lining  the  river 
would  not  do.  The  Central  Pacific  could  cut  its 
wood  as  it  needed  it,  often  within  sight  of  its  track. 
The  Union  Pacific  had  to  haul  much  of  its  wood  and 
stone,  like  its  iron,  from  its  eastern  terminus. 

The  labor  problem  of  the  Union  Pacific  was  in- 
timately connected  with  the  solution  of  its  Indian 
problem.  The  Central  Pacific  had  almost  no  trouble 
with  the  decadent  tribes  through  whom  it  ran,  but 
the  Union  Pacific  was  built  during  the  very  years 
when  the  great  plains  were  most  disturbed  and  hos- 
tile forays  were  most  frequent.  Its  employees  con- 
tained large  elements  of  the  newly  arrived  Irish  and 
of  the  recently  discharged  veterans  of  the  Civil  War. 
General  Dodge,  who  was  its  chief  engineer,  has  de- 
scribed not  only  the  military  guards  who  "  stacked 
their  arms  on  the  dump  and  were  ready  at  a  moment's 
warning  to  fall  in  and  fight,"  but  the  military  capacity 
of  the  construction  gangs  themselves.  The  "track 
train  could  arm  a  thousand  men  at  a  word/'  and 
from  chief  constructor  down  to  chief  spiker  "  could 
be  commanded  by  experienced  officers  of  every  rank, 
from  general  to  a  captain.  They  had  served  five 
years  at  the  front,  and  over  half  of  the  men  had 


THE  FIRST  OF  THE  RAILWAYS  329 

shouldered  a  musket  in  many  battles.  An  illustra- 
tion of  this  came  to  me  after  our  track  had  passed 
Plum  Creek,  200  miles  west  of  the  Missouri  River. 
The  Indians  had  captured  a  freight  train  and  were 
in  possession  of  it  and  its  crews."  Dodge  came  to 
the  rescue  in  his  car,  "a  travelling  arsenal,"  with 
twenty-odd  men,  most  of  whom  were  strangers  to 
him;  yet  "when  I  called  upon  them  to  fall  in,  to  go 
forward  and  retake  the  train,  every  man  on  the  train 
went  into  line,  and  by  his  position  showed  that  he 
was  a  soldier.  ...  I  gave  the  order  to  deploy  as 
skirmishers,  and  at  the  command  they  went  forward 
as  steadily  and  in  as  good  order  as  we  had  seen  the 
old  soldiers  climb  the  face  of  Kenesaw  under  fire. " 

By  an  act  passed  in  July,  1866,  Congress  did  much 
to  accelerate  the  construction  of  the  road.  Heretofore 
the  junction  point  had  been  in  the  Nevada  Desert, 
a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  east  of  the  California  line. 
It  was  now  provided  that  each  road  might  build  until 
it  met  the  other.  Since  the  mountain  section,  with 
the  highest  accompanying  subsidies,  was  at  hand, 
each  of  the  companies  was  spurred  on  by  its  desire 
to  get  as  much  land  and  as  many  bonds  as  possible. 
The  race  which  began  in  the  autumn  of  1866  ended 
only  with  the  completion  of  the  track  in  1869.  A 
mile  a  day  had  seemed  like  quick  work  at  the  start; 
seven  or  eight  a  day  were  laid  before  the  end. 

The  English  traveller,  Bell,  who  published  his 
New  Tracks  in  North  America  in  1869,  found  some- 
where an  enthusiastic  quotation  admirably  descrip- 


330  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

tive  of  the  process.  "  Track-laying  on  the  Union 
Pacific  is  a  science,"  it  read,  "and  we  pundits  of  the 
Far  East  stood  upon  that  embankment,  only  about 
a  thousand  miles  this  side  of  sunset,  and  backed 
westward  before  that  hurrying  corps  of  sturdy  opera- 
tives with  mingled  feelings  of  amusement,  curiosity, 
and  profound  respect.  On  they  came.  A  light  car, 
drawn  by  a  single  horse,  gallops  up  to  the  front  with 
its  load  of  rails.  Two  men  seize  the  end  of  a  rail  and 
start  forward,  the  rest  of  the  gang  taking  hold  by  twos 
until  it  is  clear  of  the  car.  They  come  forward  at  a 
run.  At  the  word  of  command,  the  rail  is  dropped  in 
its  place,  right  side  up,  with  care,  while  the  same 
process  goes  on  at  the  other  side  of  the  car.  Less 
than  thirty  seconds  to  a  rail  for  each  gang,  and  so  four 
rails  go  down  to  the  minute!  Quick  work,  you  say, 
but  the  fellows  on  the  U.  P.  are  tremendously  in 
earnest.  The  moment  the  car  is  empty  it  is  tipped 
over  on  the  side  of  the  track  to  let  the  next  loaded  car 
pass  it,  and  then  it  is  tipped  back  again;  and  it  is  a 
sight  to  see  it  go  flying  back  for  another  load,  pro- 
pelled by  a  horse  at  full  gallop  at  the  end  of  60 
or  80  feet  of  rope,  ridden  by  a  young  Jehu,  who 
drives  furiously.  Close  behind  the  first  gang  come 
the  gaugers,  spikers,  and  bolters,  and  a  lively  time 
they  make  of  it.  It  is  a  grand  Anvil  Chorus  that 
these  sturdy  sledges  are  playing  across  the  plains. 
It  is  in  a  triple  time,  three  strokes  to  a  spike. 
There  are  ten  spikes  to  a  rail,  four  hundred  rails  to 
a  mile,  eighteen  hundred  miles  to  San  Francisco. 


THE  FIRST  OF  THE  RAILWAYS  331 

That's  the  sum,  what  is  the  quotient  ?  Twenty-one 
million  times  are  those  sledges  to  be  swung  — 
twenty-one  million  times  are  they  to  come  down 
with  their  sharp  punctuation,  before  the  great  work 
of  modern  America  is  complete!  " 

Handling,  housing,  and  feeding  the  thousands  of 
laborers  who  built  the  road  was  no  mean  problem. 
Ten  years  earlier  the  builders  of  the  Illinois  Central 
had  complained  because  their  road  from  Galena  and 
Chicago  to  Cairo  ran  generally  through  an  unin- 
habited country  upon  which  they  could  not  live  as 
they  went  along.  Much  more  the  continental  rail- 
ways, building  rapidly  away  from  the  settlements, 
were  forced  to  carry  their  dwellings  with  them. 
Their  commissariat  was  as  important  as  their  general 
offices. 

An  acquaintance  of  Bell  told  of  standing  where 
Cheyenne  now  is  and  seeing  a  long  freight  train 
arrive  "  laden  with  frame  houses,  boards,  furniture, 
palings,  old  tents,  and  all  the  rubbish"  of  a  mush- 
room city.  "The  guard  jumped  off  his  van,  and  see- 
ing some  friends  on  the  platform,  called  out  with  a 
flourish,  '  Gentlemen,  here's  Julesburg. ' '  The  head 
of  the  serpentine  track,  sometimes  indeed  "crookeder 
than  the  horn  that  was  blown  around  the  walls  of 
Jericho, "  was  the  terminal  town;  its  tongue  was  the 
stretch  of  track  thrust  a  few  miles  in  advance  of  the 
head;  repeatedly  as  the  tongue  darted  out  the  head 
followed,  leaving  across  the  plains  a  series  of  scars, 
marking  the  spots  where  it  had  rested  for  a  time. 


332  THE   LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

Every  few  weeks  the  town  was  packed  upon  a  freight 
train  and  moved  fifty  or  sixty  miles  to  the  new  end 
of  the  track.  Its  vagrant  population  followed  it.  It 
was  at  Julesburg  early  in  1867;  at  Cheyenne  in  the 
end  of  the  year;  at  Laramie  City  the  following  spring. 
Always  it  was  the  most  disreputably  picturesque 
spot  on  the  anatomy  of  the  railroad. 

In  the  fall  of  1868  "Hell  on  Wheels,"  as  Samuel 
Bowles,  editor  of  the  Springfield  Republican,  appro- 
priately designated  the  terminal  town,  was  at  Ben- 
ton,  Wyoming,  six  hundred  and  ninety-eight  miles 
from  Omaha  and  near  the  military  reservation 
at  Fort  Steele.  In  the  very  midst  of  the  gray  des- 
ert, with  sand  ankle-deep  in  its  streets,  the  town, 
stood  dusty  white  —  "a  new  arrival  with  black 
clothes  looked  like  nothing  so  much  as  a  cockroach 
struggling  through  a  flour  barrel."  A  less  promising 
location  could  hardly  have  been  found,  yet  within 
two  weeks  there  had  sprung  up  a  city  of  three  thou- 
sand people  with  ordinances  and  government  suited 
to  its  size,  and  facilities  for  vice  ample  for  all.  The 
needs  of  the  road  accounted  for  it :  to  the  east  the 
road  was  operating  for  passengers  and  freight;  to 
the  west  it  was  yet  constructing  track.  Here  was 
the  end  of  rail  travel  and  the  beginning  of  the  stage 
routes  to  the  coast  and  the  mines.  Two  years 
earlier  the  similar  point  had  been  at  Fort  Kearney, 
Nebraska. 

The  city  of  tents  and  shacks  contained,  according 
to  the  count  of  JohnH.  Beadle,  a  peripatetic  journalist, 


THE  FIRST  OF  THE  RAILWAYS  333 

twenty-three  saloons  and  five  dance  houses.  It 
had  all  the  worst  details  of  the  mining  camp.  Gam- 
bling and  rowdyism  were  the  order  of  day  and  night. 
Its  great  institution  was  the  " '  Big  Tent/  some- 
times, with  equal  truth  but  less  politeness,  called 
the  'Gamblers'  Tent.7  3  This  resort  was  a  hundred 
feet  long  by  forty  wide,  well  floored,  and  given  over 
to  drinking,  dancing,  and  gambling.  The  sumptu- 
ous bar  provided  refreshment  much  desired  in  a  dry 
alkali  country;  all  the  games  known  to  the  profes- 
sional gambler  were  in  full  blast;  women,  often  fair 
and  well-dressed,  were  there  to  gather  in  what  the 
bartender  and  faro-dealer  missed.  Whence  came 
these  people,  and  how  they  learned  their  trade,  was 
a  mystery  to  Bowles.  "  Hell  would  appear  to  have 
been  raked  to  furnish  them/'  he  said,  "and  to  it  they 
must  have  naturally  returned  after  graduating  here, 
fitted  for  its  highest  seats  and  most  diabolical  ser- 


vice." 


Behind  the  terminal  town  real  estate  disappoint- 
ments, like  beads,  were  strung  along  the  cord  of 
rails.  In  advance  of  the  construction  gangs  land 
companies  would  commonly  survey  town  sites  in 
preparation  for  a  boom.  Brisk  speculation  in  corner 
lots  was  a  form  of  gambling  in  which  real  money  was 
often  lost  and  honest  hopes  were  regularly  shattered. 
Each  town  had  its  advocates  who  believed  it  was  to 
be  the  great  emporium  of  the  West.  Yet  generally, 
as  the  railroad  moved  on,  the  town  relapsed  into  a 
condition  of  deserted  prairie,  with  only  the  street 


334  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

lines  and  debris  to  remind  it  of  its  past.  Omaha, 
though  Beadle  thought  in  1868  that  no  other  "  place 
in  America  had  been  so  well  lied  about,"  and  Council 
Bluffs  retained  a  share  of  greatness  because  of  their 
strategic  position  at  the  commencement  of  the  main 
line.  Tied  together  in  1872  by  the  great  iron  bridge 
of  the  Union  Pacific,  their  relations  were  as  har- 
monious as  those  of  the  cats  of  Kilkenny,  as  they 
quarrelled  over  the  claims  of  each  to  be  the  real 
terminus.  But  the  future  of  both  was  assured  when 
the  eastern  roads  began  to  run  in  to  get  connections 
with  the  West.  Cheyenne,  too,  remained  a  city 
of  some  consequence  because  the  Denver  Pacific 
branched  off  at  this  point  to  serve  the  Pike's  Peak 
region.  But  the  names  of  most  of  the  other  one- 
time terminal  towns  were  writ  in  sand. 

The  progress  of  construction  of  the  road  after 
1866  was  rapid  enough.  At  the  end  of  1865,  though 
the  Central  Pacific  had  started  two  years  before  the 
Union  Pacific,  it  had  completed  only  sixty  miles  of 
track,  to  the  latter's  forty.  During  1866  the  Central 
Pacific  built  thirty  laborious  miles  over  the  moun- 
tains, and  in  1867,  forty-six  miles,  while  in  the  same 
two  years  the  Union  Pacific  built  five  hundred.  In 
1868,  the  western  road,  now  past  its  worst  troubles, 
added  more  than  360  to  its  mileage;  the  Union 
Pacific,  unchecked  by  the  continental  divide,  mak- 
ing a  new  record  of  425.  By  May  10, 1869,  the  line 
was  done,  1776  miles  from  Omaha  to  Sacramento. 
For  the  last  sixteen  months  of  the  continental  race 


THE  FIRST  OF  THE  RAILWAYS  335 

the  two  roads  together  had  built  more  than  two  and 
a  half  miles  for  every  working  day.  Never  before 
had  construction  been  systematized  so  highly  or  the 
rewards  for  speed  been  so  great. 
.  Whether  regarded  as  an  economic  achievement  or 
a  national  work,  the  building  of  the  road  deserved 
the  attention  it  received;  yet  it  was  scarcely  finished 
before  the  scandal-monger  was  at  work.  Beadle  had 
written  a  chapter  full  of  "  floridly  complimentary 
notices"  of  the  men  who  had  made  possible  the  feat, 
but  before  he  went  to  press  their  reputations  were 
blasted,  and  he  thought  it  safest  "to  mention  no 
names."  " Never  praise  a  man,"  he  declared  in 
disgust,  "or  name  your  children  after  him,  till  he 
is  dead."  Before  the  end  of  Grant's  first  administra- 
tion the  Credit  Mobilier  scandal  proved  that  men, 
high  in  the  national  government,  had  speculated  in 
the  project  whose  success  depended  on  their  votes. 
That  many  of  them  had  been  guilty  of  indiscretion, 
was  perfectly  clear,  but  they  had  done  only  what 
many  of  their  greatest  predecessors  had  done.  Their 
real  fault  was  made  more  prominent  by  their  misfor- 
tune in  being  caught  by  an  aroused  national  con- 
science which  suddenly  awoke  to  heed  a  call  that  it 
had  ever  disregarded  in  the  past. 

The  junction  point  for  the  Union  Pacific  and 
Central  Pacific  had  been  variously  fixed  by  the 
acts  of  1862  and  1864.  In  1866  it  was  left  open  to 
fortune  or  enterprise,  and  had  not  Congress  inter- 
vened in  1869  it  might  never  have  existed.  In 


336  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

their  rush  for  the  land  grants  the  two  rivals  hurried 
on  their  surveys  to  the  vicinity  of  Great  Salt  Lake, 
where  their  advancing  ends  began  to  overlap,  and 
continued  parallel  for  scores  of  miles.  Congress, 
noticing  their  indisposition  to  agree  upon  a  junction, 
intervened  in  the  spring  of  1869,  ordering  the  two  to 
bring  their  race  to  an  end  at  Promontory  Point,  a 
few  miles  northwest  of  Ogden  on  the  shore  of  the 
lake.  Here  in  May,  1869,  the  junction  was  cele- 
brated in  due  form. 

Since  the  " Seneca  Chief"  carried  DeWitt  Clinton 
from  Buffalo  to  the  Atlantic  in  1825,  it  has  been  the 
custom  to  make  the  completion  of  a  new  road  an 
occasion  for  formal  celebration.  On  the  10th  of 
May,  1869,  the  whole  United  States  stood  still  to 
signalize  the  junction  of  the  tracks.  The  date  had 
been  agreed  upon  by  the  railways  on  short  notice, 
and  small  parties  of  their  officials,  Governor  Stanford 
for  the  Central  Pacific  and  President  Dillon  for  the 
Union  Pacific,  had  come  to  the  scene  of  activities. 
The  latter  wrote  up  the  " Driving  the  Last  Spike" 
for  one  of  the  magazines  twenty  years  later,  telling 
how  General  Dodge  worked  all  night  of  the  9th,  lay- 
ing his  final  section,  and  how  at  noon  on  the  appointed 
day  the  last  two  rails  were  spiked  to  a  tie  of  California 
laurel.  The  immediate  audience  was  small,  including 
few  beyond  the  railway  officials,  but  within  hearing 
of  the  telegraphic  taps  that  told  of  the  last  blows 
of  the  sledge-hammer  was  much  of  the  United  States. 
President  Dillon  told  the  story  as  it  was  given  in  the 


THE  FIRST  OF  THE  RAILWAYS  337 

leading  paragraph  of  the  Nation  of  the  Thursday 
after.  "So  far  as  we  have  seen  them,"  wrote  God- 
kin's  censor  of  American  morals,  "the  speeches, 
prayers,  and  congratulatory  telegrams  ...  all  broke 
down  under  the  weight  of  the  occasion,  and  it  is  a 
relief  to  turn  from  them  to  the  telegrams  which  passed 
between  the  various  operators,  and  to  get  their 
flavor  of  business  and  the  West.  'Keep  quiet/  the 
Omaha  man  says,  when  the  operators  all  over  the 
Union  begin  to  pester  him  with  questions.  'When 
the  last  spike  is  driven  at  Promontory  Point,  we 
will  say  "Done."  By-and-by  he  sends  the  word, 
'Hats  off!  Prayer  is  being  offered.'  Then  at  the 
end  of  thirteen  minutes  he  says,  apparently  with  a 
sense  of  having  at  last  come  to  business :  '  We  have 
got  done  praying.  The  spike  is  about  to  be  presented.' 
.  .  .  Before  sunset  the  event  was  celebrated,  not 
very  noisily  but  very  heartily,  throughout  the 
country.  Chicago  made  a  procession  seven  miles 
long;  New  York  hung  out  bunting,  fired  a  hundred 
guns,  and  held  thanksgiving  services  in  Trinity; 
Philadelphia  rang  the  old  Liberty  Bell;  Buffalo 
sang  the  'Star-spangled  Banner';  and  many  towns 
burnt  powder  in  honor  of  the  consummation  of  a 
work  which,  as  all  good  Americans  believe,  gives  us  a 
road  to  the  Indies,  a  means  of  making  the  United 
States  a  halfway  house  between  the  East  and  West, 
and  last,  but  not  least,  a  new  guarantee  of  the  per- 
petuity of  the  Union  as  it  is." 

No  single  event  in  the  struggle  for  the  last  frontier 


338  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

had  a  greater  significance  for  the  immediate  audience, 
or  for  posterity,  than  this  act  of  completion.  Bret 
Harte,  poet  of  the  occasion,  asked  the  question  that 
all  were  framing:  — 

"  What  was  it  the  Engines  said, 
Pilots  touching,  head  to  head 
Facing  on  the  single  track, 
Half  a  world  behind  each  back  ?  " 

But  he  was  able  to  answer  only  a  part  of  it.  His 
western  engine  retorted  to  the  eastern :  — 

" '  You  brag  of  the  East !     You  do  ? 
Why,  /  bring  the  East  to  you ! 
All  the  Orient,  all  Cathay, 
Find  through  me  the  shortest  way ; 
And  the  sun  you  follow  here 
Rises  in  my  hemisphere. 
Really,  —  if  one  must  be  rude,  — 
Length,  my  friend,  ain't  longitude. ' " 

The  oriental  trade  of  Whitney  and  Benton  yet 
dazzled  the  eyes  of  the  men  who  built  the  road,  blind- 
ing them  to  the  prosaic  millions  lying  beneath  their 
feet.  The  East  and  West  were  indeed  united;  but, 
more  important,  the  intervening  frontier  was  ceasing 
to  divide.  When  the  road  was  undertaken,  men 
thought  naturally  of  the  East  and  the  Pacific  Coast, 
unhappily  separated  by  the  waste  of  the  mountains 
and  the  desert  and  the  Indian  Country.  The  mining 
flurries  of  the  early  sixties  raised  a  hope  that  this 


THE   FIRST  OF  THE  RAILWAYS  339 

intervening  land  might  not  all  be  waste.  As  the 
railway  had  advanced,  settlement  had  marched  with 
it,  the  two  treading  upon  the  heels  of  the  Peace 
Commissioners  sent  out  to  lure  away  the  Indians. 
With  the  opening  of  the  road  the  new  period  of 
national  assimilation  of  the  continent  had  begun. 
In  fifteen  years  more,  as  other  roads  followed,  there 
had  ceased  to  be  any  unbridgeable  gap  between  the 
East  and  West,  and  the  frontier  had  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE    NEW    INDIAN    POLICY 

THROUGH  the  negotiations  of  the  Peace  Com- 
missioners of  1867  and  1868,  and  the  opening  of  the 
Pacific  railway  in  1869,  the  Indians  of  the  plains 
had  been  cleanly  split  into  two  main  groups  which 
had  their  centres  in  the  Sioux  reserve  in  southwest 
Dakota  and  the  old  Indian  Territory.  The  advance 
of  a  new  wave  of  population  had  followed  along  the 
road  thus  opened,  pushing  settlements  into  central 
Nebraska  and  Kansas.  Through  the  latter  state  the 
Union  Pacific,  Eastern  Division,  better  known  as  the 
Kansas  Pacific,  had  been  thrust  west  to  Denver, 
where  it  arrived  before  1870  was  over.  With  this 
advance  of  civilized  life  upon  the  plains  it  became 
clear  that  the  old  Indian  policy  was  gone  for  good, 
and  that  the  idea  of  a  permanent  country,  where  the 
tribes,  free  from  white  contact,  could  continue  their 
nomadic  existence,  had  broken  down.  The  old  Ind- 
ian policy  had  been  based  upon  the  permanence 
of  this  condition,  but  with  the  white  advance  troops 
for  police  had  been  added,  while  the  loud  bickerings 
between  the  military  authorities,  thus  superimposed, 
and  the  Indian  Office,  which  regarded  itself  as  the 

340 


THE  NEW   INDIAN  POLICY  341 

rightful  custodian  of  the  problem,  proved  to  be  the 
overture  to  a  new  policy.  Said  Grant,  in  his  first 
annual  message  in  1869:  "No  matter  what  ought  to 
be  the  relations  between  such  [civilized]  settlements 
and  the  aborigines,  the  fact  is  they  do  not  harmonize 
well,  and  one  or  the  other  has  to  give  way  in  the  end. 
A  situation  which  looks  to  the  extinction  of  a  race  is 
too  horrible  for  a  nation  to  adopt  without  entailing 
upon  itself  the  wrath  of  all  Christendom  and  en- 
gendering in  the  citizen  a  disregard  for  human  life 
and  the  rights  of  others,  dangerous  to  society. 
I  see  no  substitute  for  such  a  system,  except  in  plac- 
ing all  the  Indians  on  large  reservations,  as  rapidly 
as  it  can  be  done,  and  giving  them  absolute  protec- 
tion there." 

The  vexed  question  of  civilian  or  military  control 
had  reached  the  bitterest  stage  of  its  discussion  when 
Grant  became  President.  For  five  years  there  had 
been  general  wars  in  which  both  departments  seemed 
to  be  badly  involved  and  for  which  responsibility 
was  hard  to  place.  There  were  many  things  to  be 
said  in  favor  of  either  method  of  control.  Beginning 
with  the  establishment  of  the  Bureau  of  Indian 
Affairs  in  1832,  the  office  had  been  run  by  the  War 
Department  for  seventeen  years.  In  this  period 
the  idea  of  a  permanent  Indian  Country  had  been 
carried  out;  the  frontier  had  been  established  in  an 
unbroken  line  of  reserves  from  Texas  to  Green  Bay; 
and  the  migration  across  the  plains  had  begun. 
But  with  the  creation  of  the  Interior  Department 


342  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

in  1849  the  Indian  Bureau  had  been  transferred 
to  civilian  hands.  As  yet  the  Indian  war  was  so 
exceptional  that  it  was  easy  to  see  the  arguments 
in  favor  of  a  peace  policy.  It  was  desired,  and  hon- 
estly too,  though  the  results  make  this  conviction 
hard  to  hold,  to  treat  the  Indian  well,  to  keep  the 
peace,  and  to  elevate  the  savages  as  rapidly  as  they 
would  permit  it.  However  the  government  failed 
in  practice  and  in  controlling  the  men  of  the  frontier, 
there  is  no  doubt  about  the  sincerity  of  its  general 
intent.  Had  there  been  no  Oregon  and  no  California, 
no  mines  and  no  railways,  and  no  mixture  of  slavery 
and  politics,  the  hope  might  not  have  failed  of  realiza- 
tion. Even  as  it  was,  the. civilian  bureau  had  little 
trouble  with  its  charges  for  nearly  fifteen  years 
after  its  organization.  In  general  the  military 
power  was  called  upon  when  disorder  passed  beyond 
the  control  of  the  agent ;  short  of  that  time  the  agent 
remained  in  authority. 

As  a  means  of  introducing  civilization  among  the 
tribes  the  agents  were  more  effective  than  army 
officers  could  be.  They  were,  indeed,  underpaid,  ap- 
pointed for  political  reasons,  and  often  too  weak  to 
resist  the  allurements  of  immorality  or  dishonesty ; 
but  they  were  civilians.  Their  ideals  were  those  of 
industry  and  peace.  Their  terms  of  service  were 
often  too  short  for  them  to  learn  the  business,  but 
they  were  not  subject  to  the  rapid  shifting  and 
transfer  which  made  up  a  large  part  of  army  life. 
Army  officers  were  better  picked  and  trained  than 


THE  NEW  INDIAN  POLICY  343 

the  agents,  but  their  ambitions  were  military,  and 
they  were  frequently  unable  to  understand  why 
breaches  of  formal  discipline  were  not  always  matters 
of  importance. 

The  strong  arguments  in  favor  of  military  control 
were  founded  largely  on  the  permanency  of  tenure  in 
the  army.  Political  appointments  were  fewer,  the 
average  of  personal  character  and  devotion  was 
higher.  Army  administration  had  fewer  scandals 
than  had  that  of  the  Indian  Bureau.  The  partisan 
on  either  side  in  the  sixties  was  prone  to  believe 
that  his  favorite  branch  of  the  service  was  honest 
and  wise,  while  the  other  was  inefficient,  foolish, 
and  corrupt.  He  failed  to  see  that  in  the  earliest 
phase  of  the  policy,  when  there  was  no  friction, 
and  consequently  little  fighting,  the  problem  was 
essentially  civilian;  that  in  the  next  period,  when 
constant  friction  was  provoking  wars,  it  had  become 
military;  and  that  finally,  when  emigration  and 
transportation  had  changed  friction  into  overwhelm- 
ing pressure,  the  wars  would  again  cease.  A  large 
share  of  the  disputes  were  due  to  the  misunderstand- 
ings as  to  whether,  in  particular  cases,  the  tribes 
should  be  under  the  bureau  or  the  army.  On  the 
whole,  even  when  the  tribes  were  hostile,  army 
control  tended  to  increase  the  cost  of  management 
and  the  chance  of  injustice.  There  never  was  a  time 
when  a  few  thousand  Indian  police,  with  the  ideals 
of  police  rather  than  those  of  soldiers,  could  not  have 
done  better  than  the  army  did.  But  the  student, 


344  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

attacking  the  problem  from  afar,  is  as  unable  to  solve 
it  fully  and  justly  as  were  its  immediate  custodians. 
He  can  at  most  steer  in  between  the  badly  biassed 
"Century  of  Dishonor"  of  Mrs.  Jackson,  and  the 
outrageous  cry  of  the  radical  army  and  the  frontier, 
that  the  Indian  must  go. 

The  demand  of  the  army  for  the  control  of  the 
Indians  was  never  gratified.  Around  1870  its  friends 
were  insistent  that  since  the  army  had  to  bear  the 
knocks  of  the  Indian  policy,  —  knocks,  they  claimed, 
generally  due  to  mistakes  of  the  bureau, — it  ought  to 
have  the  whole  responsibility  and  the  whole  credit. 
The  inertia  which  attaches  to  federal  reforms  held 
this  one  back,  while  the  Indian  problem  itself 
changed  in  the  seventies  so  as  to  make  it  unneces- 
sary. Once  the  great  wars  of  the  sixties  were  done 
the  tribes  subsided  into  general  peace.  Their  vigor- 
ous resistance  was  confined  to  the  years  when  the 
last  great  wave  of  the  white  advance  was  surging 
over  them.  Then,  confined  to  their  reservations, 
they  resumed  the  march  to  civilization. 

From  the  commencement  of  his  term,  Grant  was 
willing  to  aid  in  at  once  reducing  the  abuses  of  the 
Indian  Bureau  and  maintaining  a  peace  policy  on  the 
plains.  The  Peace  Commission  of  1867  had  done 
good  work,  which  would  have  been  more  effective 
had  cooperation  between  the  army  and  the  bureau 
been  possible.  Congress  now,  in  April,  1869,  voted 
two  millions  to  be  used  in  maintaining  peace  on  the 
plains,  "  among  and  with  the  several  tribes  .  .  . 


THE  NEW  INDIAN  POLICY  345 

to  promote  civilization  among  said  Indians,  bring 
them,  where  practicable,  upon  reservations,  relieve 
their  necessities,  and  encourage  their  efforts  at  self- 
support."  The  President  was  authorized  at  the  same 
time  to  erect  a  board  of  not  more  than  ten  men, 
"  eminent  for  their  intelligence  and  philanthropy/' 
who  should,  with  the  Secretary  of  the  Interior, 
and  without  salary,  exercise  joint  control  over  the 
expenditures  of  this  or  any  money  voted  for  the  use 
of  the  Indian  Department. 

The  Board  of  Indian  Commissioners  was  designed 
to  give  greater  wisdom  to  the  administration  of  the 
Indian  policy  and  to  minimize  peculation  in  the 
bureau.  It  represented,  in  substance,  a  triumph  of 
the  peace  party  over  the  army.  "The  gentlemen 
who  wrote  the  reports  of  the  Commissioners  revelled 
in  riotous  imaginations  and  discarded  facts,"  sneered 
a  friend  of  military  control;  but  there  was,  more  or 
less,  a  distinct  improvement  in  the  management  of 
the  reservation  tribes  after  1869;  although,  as  the 
exposures  of  the  Indian  ring  showed,  corruption  was 
by  no  means  stopped.  One  way  in  which  the  Com- 
missioners and  Grant  sought  to  elevate  the  tone  of 
agency  control  was  through  the  religious,  charitable, 
and  missionary  societies.  These  organizations, 
many  of  which  had  long  maintained  missionary 
schools  among  the  more  civilized  tribes,  were  in- 
vited to  nominate  agents,  teachers,  and  physicians 
for  appointment  by  the  bureau.  On  the  whole 
these  appointments  were  an  improvement  over  the 


346  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

men  whom  political  influence  had  heretofore  brought 
to  power.  Fifteen  years  later  the  Commissioner 
and  the  board  were  again  complaining  of  the  charac- 
ter of  the  agents;  but  there  was  an  increasing  stand- 
ard of  criticism. 

In  its  annual  reports  made  to  the  Secretary  of  the 
Interior  in  1869,  and  since,  the  board  gave  much 
credit  to  the  new  peace  policy.  In  1869  it  looked 
forward  with  confidence  "to  success  in  the  effort  to 
civilize  the  nomadic  tribes."  In  1871  it  described 
"the  remarkable  spectacle  seen  this  fall,  on  the  plains 
of  western  Nebraska  and  Kansas  and  eastern  Col- 
orado, of  the  warlike  tribes  of  the  Sioux  of  Dakota, 
Montana,  and  Wyoming,  hunting  peacefully  for  buf- 
falo without  occasioning  any  serious  alarm  among 
the  thousands  of  white  settlers  whose  cabins  skirt 
the  borders  of  both  sides  of  these  plains."  In  1872, 
"the  advance  of  some  of  the  tribes  in  civilization  and 
Christianity  has  been  rapid,  the  temper  and  inclina- 
tion of  all  of  them  has  greatly  improved.  .  .  .  They 
show  a  more  positive  intention  to  comply  with  their 
own  obligations,  and  to  accept  the  advice  of  those 
in  authority  over  them,  and  are  in  many  cases  dis- 
proving the  assertion,  that  adult  Indians  cannot 
be  induced  to  work."  In  1906,  in  its  88th  Annual 
Report,  there  was  still  most  marked  improvement, 
"and  for  the  last  thirty  years  the  legislation  of 
Congress  concerning  Indians,  their  education,  their 
allotment  and  settlement  on  lands  of  their  own, 
their  admission  to  citizenship,  and  the  protection  of 


THE  NEW  INDIAN  POLICY  347 

their  rights  makes,  upon  the  whole,  a  chapter  of 
political  history  of  which  Americans  may  justly  be 
proud. " 

The  board  of  Indian  Commissioners  believed  that 
most  of  the  obvious  improvement  in  the  Indian  con- 
dition was  due  to  the  substitution  of  a  peace  policy  for 
a  policy  of  something  else.  It  made  a  mistake  in 
assuming  that  there  had  ever  been  a  policy  of  war. 
So  far  as  the  United  States  government  had  been  con- 
cerned the  aim  had  always  been  peace  and  humanity  > 
and  only  when  over-eager  citizens  had  pushed  into  the 
Indian  Country  to  stir  up  trouble  had  a  war  policy 
been  administered.  Even  then  it  was  distinctly 
temporary.  The  events  of  the  sixties  had  involved 
such  continuous  friction  and  necessitated  such  severe 
repression  that  contemporaries  might  be  pardoned 
for  thinking  that  war  was  the  policy  rather  than  the 
cure.  But  the  resistance  of  the  tribes  would  gen- 
erally have  ceased  by  1870,  even  without  the  new 
peace  policy.  Every  mile  of  western  railway  lessened 
the  Indians'  capacity  for  resistance  by  increasing 
the  government's  ability  to  repress  it.  The  Union 
Pacific,  Northern  Pacific,  Atlantic  and  Pacific, 
Texas  Pacific,  and  Southern  Pacific,  to  say  nothing 
of  a  multitude  of  private  roads  like  the  Chicago, 
Burlington,  and  Quincy,  the  Denver  and  Rio 
Grande,  the  Atchison,  Topeka,  and  Santa  Fe,  and 
the  Missouri,  Kansas,  and  Texas,  were  the  real 
forces  which  brought  peace  upon  the  plains.  Yet 
the  board  was  right  in  that  its  influence  in  bringing 


348  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

closer  harmony  between  public  opinion  and  the  Indian 
Bureau,  and  in  improving  the  tone  of  the  bureau,  had 
made  the  transformation  of  the  savage  into  the  citizen 
farmer  more  rapid. 

Two  years  after  the  erection  of  the  Board  of  Indian 
Commissioners  Congress  took  another  long  step 
towards  a  better  condition  by  ordering  that  no  more 
treaties  with  the  Indian  tribes  should  be  made  by 
President  and  Senate.  For  more  than  two  years  be- 
fore 1871  no  treaty  had  been  made  and  ratified,  and 
now  the  policy  was  definitely  changed.  For  ninety 
years  the  Indians  had  been  treated  as  independent 
nations.  Three  hundred  and  seventy  treaties  had 
been  concluded  with  various  tribes,  the  United  States 
only  once  repudiating  any  of  them.  In  1863,  after 
the  Sioux  revolt,  it  abrogated  all  treaties  with  the 
tribes  in  insurrection;  but  with  this  exception,  it  had 
not  applied  to  Indian  relations  the  rule  of  international 
law  that  war  terminates  all  existing  treaties.  The 
relation  implied  by  the  treaty  had  been  anomalous. 
The  tribes  were  at  once  independent  and  dependent. 
No  foreign  nation  could  treat  with  them;  hence 
they  were  not  free.  No  state  could  treat  with  them, 
and  the  Indian  could  not  sue  in  United  States  courts; 
hence  they  were  not  Americans.  The  Supreme 
Court  in  the  Cherokee  cases  had  tried  to  define 
their  unique  status,  but  without  great  success.  It 
was  unfortunate  for  the  Indians  that  the  United 
States  took  their  tribal  existence  seriously.  The 
agreements  had  always  a  greater  sanctity  in  ap- 


THE  NEW  INDIAN  POLICY  349 

pearance  than  in  fact.  Indians  honestly  unable  to 
comprehend  the  meaning  of  the  agreement,  and 
often  denying  that  they  were  in  any  wise  bound 
by  it,  were  held  to  fulfilment  by  the  power 
of  the  United  States.  The  United  States  often 
believed  that  treaty  violation  represented  deliberate 
hostility  of  the  tribes,  when  it  signified  only  the 
unintelligence  of  the  savage  and  his  inclination  to 
follow  the  laws  of  his  own  existence.  Attempts  to  en- 
force treaties  thus  violated  led  constantly  to  wars 
whose  justification  the  Indian  could  not  see. 

The  act  of  March  3,  1871,  prohibited  the  making 
of  any  Indian  treaty  in  the  future.  Hereafter  when 
agreements  became  necessary,  they  were  to  be  made, 
much  as  they  had  been  in  the  past,  but  Congress 
was  the  ratifying  power  and  not  the  Senate.  The 
fiction  of  an  independence  which  had  held  the  Indians 
to  a  standard  which  they  could  not  understand  was 
here  abandoned;  and  quite  as  much  to  the  point, 
perhaps,  the  predominance  of  the  Senate  in  Indian 
affairs  was  superseded  by  control  by  Congress  as  a 
whole.  In  no  other  branch  of  internal  administra- 
tion would  the  Senate  have  been  permitted  to  make 
binding  agreements,  but  here  the  fiction  had  given 
it  a  dominance  ever  since  the  organization  of  the 
government. 

In  the  thirty-five  years  following  the  abandonment 
of  the  Indian  treaties  the  problems  of  management 
changed  with  the  ascending  civilization  of  the  national 
wards.  General  Francis  A.  Walker,  Indian  Com- 


350  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

missioner  in  1872,  had  seen  the  dawn  of  the  "the  day 
of  deliverance  from  the  fear  of  Indian  hostilities/ ' 
while  his  successors  in  office  saw  his  prophecy  fulfilled. 
Five  years  later  Carl  Schurz,  as  Secretary  of  the 
Interior,  gave  his  voice  and  his  aid  to  the  improvement 
of  management  and  the  drafting  of  a  positive  policy. 
His  application  of  the  merit  system  to  Indian 
appointments,  which  was  a  startling  innovation  in 
national  politics,  worked  a  great  change  after  the 
petty  thievery  which  had  flourished  in  the  presidency 
of  General  Grant.  Grant  had  indeed  desired  to  do 
well,  and  conditions  had  appreciably  bettered, 
yet  his  guileless  trust  had  enabled  practical  politicians 
to  continue  their  peculations  in  instances  which 
ranged  from  humble  agents  up  to  the  Cabinet  itself. 
Schurz  not  only  corrected  much  of  this,  but  the 
first  report  of  his  Commissioner,  E.  A.  Hayt,  outlined 
the  preliminaries  to  a  well-founded  civilization.  Be- 
sides the  continuance  of  concentration  and  education 
there  were  four  policies  which  stood  out  in  this  report 
—  economy  in  the  administration  of  rations,  that  the 
Indians  might  not  be  pauperized;  a  special  code 
of  law  for  the  Indian  reserves;  a  well-organized 
Indian  police  to  enforce  the  laws;  and  a  division  of 
reserve  lands  into  farms  which  should  be  assigned 
to  individual  Indians  in  severalty.  The  administra- 
tion of  Secretary  Schurz  gave  substance  to  all  these 
policies. 

The  progress  of  Indian  education  and  civilization 
began  to  be  a  real  thing  during  Hayes's  presidency. 


THE  NEW   INDIAN  POLICY  351 

Most  of  the  wars  were  over,  permanency  in  residence 
could  be  relied  on  to  a  considerable  degree,  the  Indians 
could  better  be  counted,  tabulated,  and  handled.  In 
1880,  the  last  year  of  Schurz  in  the  Interior  Depart- 
ment, the  Indian  Office  reported  an  Indian  popu- 
lation of  256,127  for  the  United  States,  excluding 
Alaska.  Of  these,  138,642  were  described  as  wear- 
ing citizen's  dress,  while  46,330  were  able  to  read. 
Among  them  had  been  erected  both  boarding  and  day 
schools,  72  of  the  former  and  321  of  the  latter. 
"  Reports  from  the  reservations  "  were  "full of  encour- 
agement, showing  an  increased  and  more  regular 
attendance  of  pupils  and  a  growing  interest  in  edu- 
cation on  the  part  of  parents."  Interest  in  the 
problem  of  Indian  education  had  been  aroused  in 
the  East  as  well  as  among  the  tribes  during  the  pre- 
ceding year  or  two,  because  of  the  experiment  with 
which  the  name  of  R.  H.  Pratt  was  closely  connected. 
The  non-resident  boarding  school,  where  the  children 
could  be  taken  away  from  the  tribe  and  educated 
among  whites,  had  become  a  factor  in  Carlisle, 
Hampton,  and  Forest  Grove.  Lieutenant  Pratt 
had  opened  the  first  of  these  with  147  students  in 
November,  1879.  His  design  had  been  to  give  to 
the  boys  and  girls  the  rudiments  of  education  and 
training  in  farming  and  mechanic  arts.  His  expe- 
rience had  already,  in  1880,  shown  this  to  be  entirely 
practicable.  The  boys,  uniformed  and  drilled  as 
soldiers,  under  their  own  sergeants  and  corporals, 
marched  to  the  music  of  their  own  band.  Both  sexes 


352  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

had  exhibited  at  the  Cumberland  County  Agri- 
cultural Fair,  where  prizes  were  awarded  to  many 
of  them  for  quilts,  shirts,  pantaloons,  bread,  harness, 
tinware,  and  penmanship.  Many  of  the  students 
had  increased  their  knowledge  of  white  customs 
by  going  out  in  the  summers  to  work  in  the  fields  or 
kitchens  of  farmers  in  the  East.  Here,  too,  they 
had  shown  the  capacity  for  education  and  develop- 
ment which  their  bitterest  frontier  enemies  had 
denied.  In  1906  there  were  twenty-five  of  these 
schools  with  more  than  9000  students  in  attendance. 
It  was  one  thing,  however,  to  take  the  brighter 
Indian  children  away  from  home  and  teach  them 
the  ways  of  white  men,  and  quite  another  to  per- 
suade the  main  tribe  to  support  itself  by  regular 
labor.  The  ration  system  was  a  pauperizing  in- 
fluence that  removed  the  incentive  to  work.  Trained 
mechanics,  coming  home  from  Carlisle,  or  Hampton, 
or  Haskell,  found  no  work  ready  for  them,  no  custom- 
ers for  their  trade,  and  no  occupation  but  to  sit  around 
with  their  relatives  and  wait  for  rations.  Too  much 
can  be  made  of  the  success  of  Indian  education,  but 
the  progress  was  real,  if  not  rapid  or  great.  The  Mon- 
tana Crows,  for  instance,  were,  in  1904,  encouraged 
into  agricultural  rivalry  by  a  county  fair.  Their 
congenital  love  for  gambling  was  converted  into  com- 
petition over  pumpkins  and  live  stock.  In  1906 
they  had  not  been  drawing  rations  for  nearly  two 
years.  While  their  settling  down  was  but  a  single 
incident  in  tribal  education  and  not  a  general  reform, 


THE  NEW  INDIAN  POLICY  353 

it  indicated  at  least  a  change  in  emphasis  in  Indian 
conditions  since  the  warlike  sixties.  The  brilliant 
green  placard  which  announced  their  county  fair  for 
1906  bears  witness  to  this :  — 

"CROWS,  WAKE  UP! 

"Your  Big  Fair  Will  Take  Place  Early  in  October. 

"Begin  Planting  for  it  Now. 

"  Plant  a  Good  Garden. 

"  Put  in  Wheat  and  Oats. 

Get  Your  Horses,  Cattle,  Pigs,  and  Chickens  in  Shape  to  Bring  to  the  Fair. 

Cash  Prizes  and  Badges  will  be  awarded  to  Indians  Making  Best  Exhibits. 

"  Get  Busy.    Tell  Your  Neighbor  to  Go  Home  and  Get  Busy,  too. 

"  Committee." 
% 

A  great  practical  obstruction  in  the  road  of  economic 
independence  for  the  Indians  was  the  absence  of  a 
legal  system  governing  their  relations,  and  more 
particularly  securing  to  them  individual  owner- 
ship of  land.  Treated  as  independent  nations  by  the 
United  States,  no  attempt  had  been  made  to  pass 
civil  or  even  criminal  laws  for  them,  while  the  tribal 
organizations  had  been  too  primitive  to  do  much 
of  this  on  their  own  account.  Individual  attempts 
at  progress  were  often  checked  by  the  fact  that  crime 
went  unpunished  in  the  Indian  Country.  An  Indian 
police,  embracing  815  officers  and  men,  had  existed  in 
1880,  but  the  law  respecting  trespassers  on  Indian 
lands  was  inadequate,  and  Congress  was  slow  in 
providing  codes  and  courts  for  the  reservations. 
The  Secretary  of  the  Interior  erected  agency  courts 
on  his  own  authority  in  1883;  Congress  extended 
certain  laws  over  the  tribes  in  1885;  and  a  little 

2A 


354  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

later  provided  salaries  for  the  officials  of  the  agency 
courts. 

An  act  passed  in  1887  for  the  ownership  of  lands  in 
severalty  by  Indians  marked  a  great  step  towards 
solidifying  Indian  civilization.  There  had  been  no 
greater  obstacle  to  this  civilization  than  communal 
ownership  of  land.  The  tribal  standard  was  one  of 
hunting,  with  agriculture  as  an  incidental  and  rather 
degrading  feature.  Few  of  the  tribes  had  any  recog- 
nition of  individual  ownership.  The  educated  Ind- 
ian and  the  savage  alike  were  forced  into  economic 
stagnation  by  the  system.  Education  could  accom- 
plish little  in  face  of  it.  The  changes  of  the  seventies 
brought  a  growing  recognition  of  the  evil  and  repeated 
requests  that  Congress  begin  the  breaking  down  of 
the  tribal  system  through  the  substitution  of  Ind- 
ian ownership. 

In  isolated  cases  and  by  special  treaty  provisions 
a  few  of  the  Indians  had  been  permitted  to  acquire 
lands  and  be  blended  in  the  body  of  American  citi- 
zens. But  no  general  statute  existed  until  the  passage 
of  the  Dawes  bill  in  February,  1887.  In  this  year 
the  Commissioner  estimated  that  there  were  243,299 
Indians  in  the  United  States,  occupying  a  total  of 
213,117  square  miles  of  land,  nearly  a  section  apiece. 
By  the  Dawes  bill  the  President  was  given  authority 
to  divide  the  reserves  among  the  Indians  located  on 
them,  distributing  the  lands  on  the  basis  of  a  quarter 
section  or  160  acres  to  each  head  of  a  family,  an  eighth 
section  to  single  adults  and  orphans,  and  a  sixteenth 


THE  NEW  INDIAN  POLICY  355 

to  each  dependent  child.  It  was  provided  also  that 
when  the  allotments  had  been  made,  tribal  owner- 
ship should  cease,  and  the  title  to  each  farm  should 
rest  in  the  individual  Indian  or  his  heirs.  But  to 
forestall  the  improvident  sale  of  this  land  the  owner 
was  to  be  denied  the  power  to  mortgage  or  dispose 
of  it  for  at  least  twenty-five  years.  The  United 
States  was  to  hold  it  in  trust  for  him  for  this  time. 

Besides  allowing  the  Indian  to  own  his  farm  and 
thus  take  his  step  toward  economic  independence,  the 
Dawes  bill  admitted  him  to  citizenship.  Once  the 
lands  had  been  allotted,  the  owners  came  within  the 
full  jurisdiction  of  the  states  or  territories  where 
they  lived,  and  became  amenable  to  and  protected 
by  the  law  as  citizens  of  the  United  States. 

The  policy  which  had  been  recommended  since 
the  time  of  Schurz  became  the  accepted  policy  of  the 
United  States  in  1887.  "I  fail  to  comprehend  the 
full  import  of  the  allotment  act  if  it  was  not  the  pur- 
pose of  the  Congress  which  passed  it  and  the  Exec- 
utive whose  signature  made  it  a  law  ultimately  to 
dissolve  all  tribal  relations  and  to  place  each  adult 
Indian  on  the  broad  platform  of  American  citizen- 
ship," wrote  the  Commissioner  in  1887.  For  the 
next  twenty  years  the  reports  of  the  office  were  filled 
with  details  of  subdivision  of  reserves  and  the  adjust- 
ment of  the  legal  problems  arising  from  the  process. 
And  in  the  twenty-first  year  the  old  Indian  Country 
ceased  to  exist  as  such,  coming  into  the  Union  as  the 
state  of  Oklahoma. 


356  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

The  progress  of  allotment  under  the  Dawes  bill 
steadily  broke  down  the  reserves  of  the  so-called 
Indian  Territory.  Except  the  five  civilized  tribes, 
Cherokees,  Creeks,  Choctaws,  Chickasaws,  and  Semi- 
noles,  the  inhabitants  who  had  been  colonized  there 
since  the  Civil  War  wanted  to  take  advantage  of  the 
act.  The  civilized  tribes  preferred  a  different  and 
more  independent  system  for  themselves,  and  re- 
tained their  tribal  identity  until  1906.  In  the  transi- 
tion it  was  found  that  granting  citizenship  to  the 
Indian  in  a  way  increased  his  danger  by  opening  him 
to  the  attack  of  the  liquor  dealer  and  depriving  him 
of  some  of  the  special  protection  of  the  Indian  Office. 
To  meet  this  danger,  as  the  period  of  tribal  extinction 
drew  near,  the  Burke  act  of  1906  modified  and  con- 
tinued the  provisions  of  the  Dawes  bill.  The  new 
statute  postponed  citizenship  until  the  expiration 
of  the  twenty-five-year  period  of  trust,  while  giving 
complete  jurisdiction  over  the  allottee  to  the  United 
States  in  the  interim.  In  special  cases  the  Secretary 
of  the  Interior  was  allowed  to  release  from  the  period 
of  guardianship  and  trusteeship  individual  Indians 
who  were  competent  to  manage  their  own  affairs,  but 
for  the  generality  the  period  of  twenty-five  years 
was  considered  "not  too  long  a  time  for  most  Ind- 
ians to  serve  their  apprenticeship  in  civic  responsi- 
bilities." 

Already  the  opening  up  to  legal  white  settlement 
had  begun.  In  the  Dawes  bill  it  was  provided  that 
after  the  lands  had  been  allotted  in  severalty  the 


THE  NEW  INDIAN  POLICY  357 

undivided  surplus  might  be  bought  by  the  United 
States  and  turned  into  the  public  domain  for  entry 
and  settlement.  Following  this,  large  areas  were 
purchased  in  1888  and  1889,  to  be  settled  in  1890. 
The  territory  of  Oklahoma,  created'  in  this  year  in 
the  western  end  of  Indian  Territory,  and  "No  Man's 
Land,"  north  of  Texas,  marked  the  political  begin- 
ning of  the  end  of  Indian  Territory.  It  took  nearly 
twenty  years  to  complete  it,  through  delays  in  the 
process  of  allotment  and  sale;  but  in  these  two  dec- 
ades the  work  was  done  thoroughly,  the  five  civilized 
tribes  divided  their  own  lands  and  abandoned  tribal 
government,  and  in  November,  1908,  the  state  of 
Oklahoma  was  admitted  by  President  Roosevelt. 

The  Indian  relations,  which  were  most  belligerent 
in  the  sixties,  had  changed  completely  in  the  ensuing 
forty  years.  In  part  the  change  was  due  to  a  greater 
and  more  definite  desire  at  Washington  for  peace, 
but  chiefly  it  was  environmental,  due  to  the  progress 
of  settlement  and  transportation  which  overwhelmed 
the  tribes,  destroying  their  capacity  to  resist  and 
embedding  them  firmly  in  the  white  population. 
Oklahoma  marked  the  total  abandonment  of  Mon- 
roe's policy  of  an  Indian  Country. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE   LAST  STAND   OF   CHIEF  JOSEPH  AND 
SITTING  BULL 

THE  main  defence  of  the  last  frontier  by  the  Indians 
ceased  with  the  termination  of  the  Indian  wars  of 
the  sixties.  Here  the  resistance  had  most  closely 
resembled  a  general  war  with  the  tribes  in  close 
alliance  against  the  invader.  With  this  obstacle  over- 
come, the  work  left  to  be  done  in  the  conquest  of  the 
continent  fell  into  two  main  classes:  terminating 
Indian  resistance  by  the  suppression  of  sporadic 
outbreaks  in  remote  byways  and  letting  in  the 
population.  The  new  course  of  the  Indian  problem 
after  1869  led  it  speedily  away  from  the  part  it  had 
played  in  frontier  advance  until  it  became  merely 
one  of  many  social  or  race  problems  in  the  United 
States.  It  lost  its  special  place  as  the  great  illustra- 
tion of  the  difficulties  of  frontier  life.  But  although 
the  new  course  tended  toward  chronic  peace,  there 
were  frequent  relapses,  here  and  there,  which  pro- 
duced a  series  of  Indian  flurries  after  1869.  Never 
again  do  these  episodes  resemble,  however  remotely, 
a  general  Indian  war. 

Human  nature  did  not  change  with  the  adoption 
of  the  so-called  peace  policy.  The  government  had 

358 


CHIEF  JOSEPH  AND  SITTING  BULL  359 

constantly  to  be  on  guard  against  the  dishonest  agent, 
while  improved  facilities  in  communication  increased 
the  squatters'  ability  to  intrude  upon  valuable  lands. 
The  Sioux  treaty  of  1868,  whereby  the  United  States 
abandoned  the  Powder  River  route  and  erected  the 
great  reserve  in  Dakota,  west  of  the  Missouri  River, 
was  scarcely  dry  before  rumors  of  the  discovery  of 
gold  in  the  Black  Hills  turned  the  eyes  of  pros- 
pectors thither. 

Early  in  1870  citizens  of  Cheyenne  and  the  terri- 
tory of  Wyoming  organized  a  mining  and  prospecting 
company  that  professed  an  intention  to  explore  the 
Big  Horn  country  in  northern  Wyoming,  but  was 
believed  by  the  Sioux  to  contemplate  a  visit  to  the 
Black  Hills  within  their  reserve.  The  local  Sioux 
agent  remonstrated  against  this,  and  General  C.  C. 
Augur  was  sent  to  Cheyenne  to  confer  with  the  leaders 
of  the  expedition.  He  found  Wyoming  in  a  state  of 
irritation  against  the  Sioux  treaty,  which  left  the 
Indians  in  control  of  their  Powder  River  country  — 
the  best  third  of  the  territory.  He  sympathized  with 
the  frontiersmen,  but  finally  was  forced  by  orders 
from  Washington  to  prevent  the  expedition  from 
starting  into  the  field.  Four  years  later  this  deferred 
reconnoissance  took  place  as  an  official  expedition 
under  General  Custer,  with  "  great  excitement  among 
the  whole  Sioux."  The  approach  from  the  north- 
east of  the  Northern  Pacific,  which  had  reached  a 
landing  at  Bismarck  on  the  Missouri  before  the  panic 
of  1873,  still  further  increased  the  apprehension  of 


360  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

the  tribes  that  they  were  to  be  dispossessed.  The 
Indian  Commissioner,  in  the  end  of  1874,  believed 
that  no  harm  would  come  of  the  expedition  since  no 
great  gold  finds  had  been  made,  but  the  Montana 
historian  was  nearer  the  truth  when  he  wrote: 
"The  whole  Sioux  nation  was  successfully  defied." 
It  was  a  clear  violation  of  the  tribal  right,  and  neces- 
sarily emboldened  the  frontiersmen  to  prospect  on 
their  own  account. 

Still  further  to  disquiet  the  Sioux,  and  to  give 
countenance  to  the  disgruntled  warrior  bands  that 
resented  the  treaties  already  made,  came  the  mis- 
management of  the  Red  Cloud  agency.  Professor 
O.  C.  Marsh,  of  Yale  College,  was  stopped  by  Red 
Cloud,  while  on  a  geological  visit  to  the  Black  Hills, 
in  November,  1874,  and  was  refused  admission  to  the 
Indian  lands  until  he  agreed  to  convey  to  Washington 
samples  of  decayed  flour  and  inferior  rations  which 
the  Indian  agent  was  issuing  to  the  Oglala  Sioux. 
With  some  time  at  his  disposal,  Professor  Marsh  pro- 
ceeded to  study  the  new  problem  thus  brought  to  his 
notice,  and  accumulated  a  mass  of  evidence  which 
seemed  to  him  to  prove  the  existence  of  big  plots  to 
defraud  the  government,  and  mismanagement  ex- 
tending even  to  the  Secretary  of  the  Interior.  He 
published  his  charges  in  pamphlet  form,  and  wrote 
letters  of  protest  to  the  President,  in  which  he 
maintained  that  the  Indian  officials  were  trying 
harder  to  suppress  his  evidence  than  to  correct  the 
grievances  of  the  Sioux.  He  managed  to  stir  up  so 


fc  T3 

1! 

O     a, 
M    2 


II 

80       ^ 

o    a 


CHIEF  JOSEPH  AND  SITTING  BULL  361 

much  interest  in  the  East  that  the  Board  of  Indian 
Commissioners  finally  appointed  a  committee  to  in- 
vestigate the  affairs  of  the  Red  Cloud  agency.  The 
report  of  the  committee  in  October,  1875,  white- 
washed many  of  the  individuals  attacked  by  Professor 
Marsh,  and  exonerated  others  of  guilt  at  the  expense 
of  their  intelligence,  but  revealed  abuses  in  the 
Indian  Office  which  might  fully  justify  uneasiness 
among  the  Sioux. 

To  these  tribes,  already  discontented  because  of 
their  compression  and  sullen  because  of  mismanage- 
ment, the  entry  of  miners  into  the  Black  Hills  country 
was  the  last  straw.  Probably  a  thousand  miners  were 
there  prospecting  in  the  summer  of  1875,  creating 
disturbances  and  exaggerating  in  the  Indian  mind 
the  value  of  the  reserve,  so  that  an  attempt  by  the 
Indian  Bureau  to  negotiate  a  cession  in  the  autumn 
came  to  nothing.  The  natural  tendency  of  these 
forces  was  to  drive  the  younger  braves  off  the 
reserve,  to  seek  comfort  with  the  non-treaty  bands 
that  roamed  at  will  and  were  scornful  of  those  that 
lived  in  peace.  Most  important  of  the  leaders 
of  these  bands  was  Sitting  Bull. 

In  December  the  Indian  Commissioner,  despite 
the  Sioux  privilege  to  pursue  the  chase,  ordered  all 
the  Sioux  to  return  to  their  reserves  before  February 
1,  1876,  under  penalty  of  being  considered  hostile. 
As  yet  the  mutterings  had  not  broken  out  in  war, 
and  the  evidence  does  not  show  that  conflict  was 
inevitable.  The  tribes  could  not  have  got  back  on 


362  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

time  had  they  wanted  to ;  but  their  failure  to  return 
led  the  Indian  Office  to  turn  the  Sioux  over  to  the 
War  Department.  The  army  began  by  destroying 
a  friendly  village  on  the  17th  of  March,  a  fact  at- 
tested not  by  an  enemy  of  the  army,  but  by  General 
H.  H.  Sibley,  of  Minnesota,  who  himself  had  fought 
the  Sioux  with  marked  success  in  1862. 

With  war  now  actually  begun,  three  columns  were 
sent  into  the  field  to  arrest  and  restrain  the  hostile 
Sioux.  Of  the  three  commanders,  Cook,  Gibbon, 
and  Custer,  the  last-named  was  the  most  romantic 
of  fighters.  He  was  already  well  known  for  his 
Cheyenne  campaigns  and  his  frontier  book.  Sher- 
man had  described  him  in  1867  as  "  young,  very 
brave,  even  to  rashness,  a  good  trait  for  a  cavalry 
officer,"  and  as  " ready  and  willing  now  to  fight  the 
Indians."  La  Barge,  who  had  carried  some  of 
Custer's  regiment  on  his  steamer  De  Smet,  in 
1873,  saw  him  as  "an  officer  .  .  .  clad  in  buckskin 
trousers  from  the  seams  of  which  a  large  fringe  was 
fluttering,  red-topped  boots,  broad  sombrero,  large 
gauntlets,  flowing  hair,  and  mounted  on  a  spirited 
animal."  His  showy  vanity  and  his  admitted  cour- 
age had  already  got  him  into  more  than  one  diffi- 
culty; now  on  June  25,  1876,  his  whole  column 
of  five  companies,  excepting  only  his  battle  horse, 
Comanche,  and  a  half-breed  scout,  was  destroyed  in  a 
battle  on  the  Little  Big  Horn.  If  Custer  had 
lived,  he  might  perhaps  have  been  cleared  of  the 
charge  of  disobedience,  as  Fetterman  might  ten  years 


CHIEF  JOSEPH  AND  SITTING  BULL  363 

before,  but,  as  it  turned  out,  there  were  many  to 
lay  his  death  to  his  own  rashness.  The  war  ended 
before  1876  was  over,  though  Sitting  Bull  with  a 
small  band  escaped  to  Canada,  where  he  worried 
the  Dominion  Government  for  several  years.  "I 
know  of  no  instance  in  history,"  wrote  Bishop 
Whipple  of  Minnesota,  "  where  a  great  nation  has  so 
shamelessly  violated  its  solemn  oath."  The  Sioux 
were  crushed,  their  Black  Hills  were  ceded,  and  the 
disappointed  tribes  settled  down  to  another  decade 
of  quiescence. 

In  1877  the  interest  which  had  made  Sitting  Bull 
a  hero  in  the  Centennial  year  was  transferred  to 
Chief  Joseph,  leader  of  the  non-treaty  Nez  Perces,  in 
the  valley  of  the  Snake.  This  tribe  had  been  a 
friendly  neighbor  of  the  overland  migrations  since 
the  expedition  of  Lewis  and  Clark.  Living  in  the 
valleys  of  the  Snake  and  its  tributaries,  it  could 
easily  have  hindered  the  course  of  travel  along  the 
Oregon  trail,  but  the  disposition  of  its  chiefs  was 
always  good.  In  1855  it  had  begun  to  treat  with 
the  United  States  and  had  ceded  considerable  terri- 
tory at  the  conference  held  by  Governor  Stevens 
with  Chief  Lawyer  and  Chief  Joseph. 

The  exigencies  of  the  Civil  War,  failure  of  Congress 
to  fulfil  treaty  stipulations,  and  the  discovery  of 
gold  along  the  Snake  served  to  change  the  character 
of  the  Nez  Perces.  Lawyer's  annuity  of  five  hundred 
dollars,  as  Principal  Chief,  was  at  best  not  royal, 
and  when  its  vouchers  had  to  be  cashed  in  green- 


364  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

backs  at  from  forty-five  to  fifty  cents  on  the  dollar, 
he  complained  of  hardship.  It  was  difficult  to  per- 
suade the  savage  that  a  depreciated  greenback  was 
as  good  as  money.  Congress  was  slow  with  the  an- 
nuities promised  in  1855.  In  1861,  only  one  Indian 
in  six  could  have  a  blanket,  while  the  4393  yards  of 
calico  issued  allowed  under  two  yards  to  each  Indian. 
The  Commissioner  commented  mildly  upon  this,  to 
the  effect  that  "  Giving  a  blanket  to  one  Indian  works 
no  satisfaction  to  the  other  five,  who  receive  none." 
The  gold  boom,  with  the  resulting  rise  of  Lewiston,  in 
the  heart  of  the  reserve,  brought  in  so  many  lawless 
miners  that  the  treaty  of  1855  was  soon  out  of  date. 
In  1863  a  new  treaty  was  held  with  Chief  Lawyer 
and  fifty  other  headmen,  by  which  certain  valleys 
were  surrendered  and  the  bounds  of  the  Lapwai 
reserve  agreed  upon.  Most  of  the  Nez  Perces  ac- 
cepted this,  but  Chief  Joseph  refused  to  sign  and 
gathered  about  him  a  band  of  unreconciled,  non- 
treaty  braves  who  continued  to  hunt  at  will  over  the 
Wallowa  Valley,  which  Lawyer  and  his  followers  had 
professed  to  cede.  It  was  an  interesting  legal  point 
as  to  the  right  of  a  non-treaty  chief  to  claim  to  own 
lands  ceded  by  the  rest  of  his  tribe.  But  Joseph, 
though  discontented,  was  not  dangerous,  and  there 
was  little  friction  until  settlers  began  to  penetrate 
into  his  hunting-grounds.  In  1873,  President  Grant 
created  a  Wallowa  reserve  for  Joseph's  Nez  Percys, 
since  they  claimed  this  chiefly  as  their  home.  But 
when  they  showed  no  disposition  to  confine 


CHIEF  JOSEPH  AND  SITTING  BULL  365 

selves  to  its  limits,  he  revoked  the  order  in  1875.  The 
next  year  a  commission,  headed  by  the  Secretary  of 
the  Interior,  Zachary  Chandler,  was  sent  to  persuade 
Joseph  to  settle  down,  but  returned  without  success. 
Joseph  stood  upon  his  right  to  continue  to  occupy 
at  pleasure  the  lands  which  had  always  belonged 
to  the  Nez  Perces,  and  which  he  and  his  followers 
had  never  ceded.  The  commission  recommended 
the  segregation  of  the  medicine-men  and  dreamers, 
especially  Smohalla,  who  seemed  to  provide  the 
inspiration  for  Joseph,  and  the  military  occupation 
of  the  Wallowa  Valley  in  anticipation  of  an  outbreak 
by  the  tribe  against  the  incoming  white  settlers. 
These  things  were  done  in  part,  but  in  the  spring  of 
1877,  "it  becoming  evident  to  Agent  Monteith  that 
all  negotiations  for  the  peaceful  removal  of  Joseph 
and  his  band,  with  other  non-treaty  Nez  Perce 
Indians,  to  the  Lapwai  Indian  reservation  in  Idaho 
must  fail  of  a  satisfactory  adjustment,"  the  Indian 
Office  gave  it  up,  and  turned  the  affair  over  to 
General  0.  0.  Howard  and  the  War  Department. 

The  conferences  held  by  Howard  with  the  leaders, 
in  May,  made  it  clear  to  them  that  their  alternatives 
were  to  emigrate  to  Lapwai  or  to  fight.  At  first 
Howard  thought  they  would  yield.  Looking  Glass 
and  White  Bird  picked  out  a  site  on  the  Clearwater 
to  which  the  tribe  agreed  to  remove  at  once;  but 
just  before  the  day  fixed  for  the  removal,  the  murder 
of  one  of  the  Indians  near  Mt.  Idaho  led  to  revenge 
directed  against  the  whites  and  the  massacre  of 


366  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

several.  War  immediately  followed,  for  the  next 
two  months  covering  the  borderland  of  Idaho  and 
Montana  with  confusion!  A  whole  volume  by 
General  Howard  has  been  devoted  to  its  details. 
Chief  Joseph  himself  discussed  it  in  the  North 
American  Review  in  1879.  Dunn  has  treated  it  criti- 
cally in  his  Massacres  of  the  Mountains,  and  the 
Montana  Historical  Society  has  published  many 
articles  concerning  it.  Considerably  less  is  known  of 
the  more  important  wars  which  preceded  it  than  of 
this  struggle  of  the  Nez  Perces.  In  August  the  fight- 
ing turned  to  flight,  Chief  Joseph  abandoning  the 
Salmon  River  country  and  crossing  into  the  Yellow- 
stone Valley.  In  seventy-five  days  Howard  chased 
him  1321  miles,  across  the  Yellowstone  Park  toward 
the  Big  Horn  country  and  the  Sioux  reserve.  Along 
the  swift  flight  there  were  running  battles  from  time 
to  time,  while  the  fugitives  replenished  their  stores 
and  stock  from  the  country  through  which  they 
passed.  Behind  them  Howard  pressed ;  in  their  front 
Colonel  Nelson  A.  Miles  was  ordered  to  head  them 
off.  Miles  caught  their  trail  in  the  end  of  Septem- 
ber after  they  had  crossed  the  Missouri  River  and 
had  headed  for  the  refuge  in  Canada  which  Sitting 
Bull  had  found.  On  October  3,  1877,  he  surprised 
the  Nez  Perce  camp  on  Snake  Creek,  capturing  six 
hundred  head  of  stock  and  inflicting  upon  Joseph's 
band  the  heaviest  blow  of  the  war.  Two  days  later 
the  stubborn  chief  surrendered  to  Colonel  Miles. 
"  What  shall  be  done  with  them?"  Commis- 


CHIEF  JOSEPH  AND  SITTING  BULL  367 

sioner  Hayt  asked  at  the  end  of  1877.  For  once  an 
Indian  band  had  conducted  a  war  on  white  principles, 
obeying  the  rules  of  war  and  refraining  from  mutila- 
tion and  torture.  Joseph  had  by  his  sheer  military 
skill  won  the  admiration  and  respect  of  his  military 
opponents.  But  the  murders  which  had  inaugurated 
the  war  prevented  a  return  of  the  tribe  to  Idaho. 
To  exile  they  were  sent,  and  Joseph's  uprising  ended 
as  all  such  resistances  must.  The  forcible  invasion 
of  the  territory  by  the  whites  was  maintained;  the 
tribe  was  sent  in  punishment  to  malarial  lands  in 
Indian  Territory,  where  they  rapidly  dwindled  in 
number.  There  has  been  no  adequate  defence  of  the 
policy  of  the  United  States  from  first  to  last. 

The  Modoc  of  northern  California,  and  the 
Apache  of  Arizona  and  New  Mexico  fought  against 
the  inevitable,  as  did  the  Sioux  and  the  Nez  Perces. 
The  former  broke  out  in  resistance  in  the  winter  of 
1872-1873,  after  they  had  long  been  proscribed  by 
California  opinion.  In  March  of  1873  they  made 
their  fate  sure  by  the  treacherous  murder  of  General 
E.  R.  S.  Canby  and  other  peace  commissioners  sent 
to  confer  with  them.  In  the  war  which  resulted  the 
Modoc,  under  Modoc  Jack  and  Scar-Faced  Charley, 
were  pursued  from  cave  to  ravine  among  the  lava 
beds  of  the  Modoc  country  until  regular  soldiers 
finally  corralled  them  all.  Jack  was  hanged  for 
murder  at  Fort  Klamath  in  October,  but  Charley 
lived  to  settle  down  and  reform  with  a  portion  of  the 
tribe  in  Indian  Territory. 


368  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

The  Apache  had  always  been  a  thorn  in  the 
flesh  of  the  trifling  population  of  Arizona  and  New 
Mexico,  and  a  nuisance  to  both  army  and  Indian 
Office.  The  Navaho,  their  neighbors,  after  a  hard 
decade  with  Carleton  and  the  Bosque  Redondo,  had 
quieted  down  during  the  seventies  and  advanced 
towards  economic  independence.  But  the  Apache 
were  long  in  learning  the  virtues  of  non-resistance. 
Bell  had  found  in  Arizona  a  young  girl  whose  adven- 
tures as  a  fifteen-year-old  child  served  to  explain  the 
attitude  of  the  whites.  She  had  been  carried  off  by 
Indians  who,  when  pressed  by  pursuers,  had  stripped 
her  naked,  knocked  her  senseless  with  a  tomahawk, 
pierced  her  arms  with  three  arrows  and  a  leg  with 
one,  and  then  rolled  her  down  a  ravine,  there  to  aban- 
don her.  The  child  had  come  to,  and  without  food, 
clothes,  or  water,  had  found  her  way  home  over 
thirty  miles  of  mountain  paths.  Such  episodes  neces- 
sarily inspired  the  white  population  with  fear  and 
hatred,  while  the  continued  residence  of  the  sufferers 
in  the  Indians'  vicinity  illustrates  the  persistence  of 
the  pressure  which  was  sure  to  overwhelm  the  tribes 
in  the  end.  Tucson  had  retaliated  against  such 
excesses  of  the  red  men  by  equal  excesses  of  the 
whites.  Without  any  immediate  provocation,  four- 
score Arivapa  Apache,  who  had  been  concentrated 
under  military  supervision  at  Camp  Grant,  were 
massacred  in  cold  blood. 

General  George  Crook  alone  was  able  to  bring 
order  into  the  Arizona  frontier.  From  1871  to  1875 


CHIEF  JOSEPH  AND  SITTING  BULL  369 

he  was  there  in  command,  —  "the  beau-ideal  Indian 
fighter/ '  Dunn  calls  him.  For  two  years  he  en- 
gaged in  constant  campaigns  against  the  "  incorri- 
gibly hostile/7  but  before  1873  was  over  he  had  most 
of  his  Apache  pacified,  checked  off,  and  under  police 
supervision.  He  enrolled  them  and  gave  to  each  a 
brass  identification  check,  so  that  it  might  be  easier 
for  his  police  to  watch  them.  The  tribes  were  passed 
back  to  the  Indian  Office  in  1874,  and  Crook  was 
transferred  to  another  command  in  1875.  Immedi- 
ately the  Indian  Commissioner  commenced  to  con- 
centrate the  scattered  tribes,  but  was  hindered  by 
hostilities  among  the  Indians  themselves  quite  as 
bitter  as  their  hatred  for  the  whites.  First  Victorio, 
and  then  Geronimo  was  the  centre  of  the  resistance 
to  the  concentration  which  placed  hereditary  enemies 
side  by  side.  They  protested  against  the  sites  as- 
signed them,  and  successfully  defied  the  Commis- 
sioner to  carry  out  his  orders.  Crook  was  brought 
back  to  the  department  in  1882,  and  after  another 
long  war  gradually  established  peace. 

Sitting  Bull,  who  had  fled  to  Canada  in  1876, 
returned  to  Dakota  in  the  early  eighties  in  time  to 
witness  the  rapid  settlement  of  the  northern  plains 
and  the  growth  of  the  territories  towards  statehood. 
After  his  revolt  the  Black  Hills  had  been  taken  away 
from  the  tribe,  as  had  been  the  vague  hunting  rights 
over  northern  Wyoming.  Now  as  statehood  ad- 
vanced in  the  later  eighties,  and  as  population  piled 
up  around  the  edges  of  the  reserve,  the  time  was 

2B 


370  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

ripe  for  the  medicine-men  to  preach  the  coming 
of  a  Messiah,  and  for  Sitting  Bull  to  increase  his 
personal  following.  Bad  crops  which  in  these  years 
produced  populism  in  Kansas  and  Nebraska,  had  even 
greater  menace  for  the  half-civilized  Indians.  Agents 
and  army  officers  became  aware  of  the  undercurrent 
of  danger  some  months  before  trouble  broke  out. 

The  state  of  South  Dakota  was  admitted  in  Novem- 
ber, 1889.  Just  a  year  later  the  Bureau  turned  the 
Sioux  country  over  to  the  army,  and  General  Nelson 
A.  Miles  proceeded  to  restore  peace,  especially  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  Rosebud  and  Pine  Ridge  agencies. 
The  arrest  of  Sitting  Bull,  who  claimed  miraculous 
powers  for  himself,  and  whose  " ghost  shirts"  were 
supposed  to  give  invulnerability  to  his  followers, 
was  attempted  in  December.  The  troops  sent  out 
were  resisted,  however,  and  in  the  melee  the  prophet 
was  killed.  The  war  which  followed  was  much 
noticed,  but  of  little  consequence.  General  Miles 
had  plenty  of  troops  and  Hotchkiss  guns.  Helio- 
graph stations  conveyed  news  easily  and  safely. 
But  when  orders  were  issued  two  weeks  after  the 
death  of  Sitting  Bull  to  disarm  the  camp  at  Wounded 
Knee,  the  savages  resisted.  The  troops  within 
reach,  far  outnumbered,  blazed  away  with  their 
rapid-fire  guns,  regardless  of  age  or  sex,  with  such 
effect  that  more  than  two  hundred  Indian  bodies, 
mostly  women  and  children,  were  found  dead  upon 
the  field. 

With  the  death  of  Sitting  Bull,  turbulence  among 


CHIEF  JOSEPH  AND  SITTING  BULL  371 

the  Indians,  important  enough  to  be  called  resistance, 
came  to  an  end.  There  had  been  many  other  iso- 
lated cases  of  outbreak  since  the  adoption  of  the 
peace  policy  in  1869.  There  were  petty  riots  and 
individual  murders  long  after  1890.  But  there  were, 
and  could  be,  no  more  Indian  wars.  Many  of  the 
tribes  had  been  educated  to  half-civilization,  while 
lands  in  severalty  had  changed  the  point  of  view  of 
many  tribesmen.  The  relative  strength  of  the  two 
races  was  overwhelmingly  in  favor  of  the  whites. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

LETTING  IN  THE   POPULATION* 

"  VEIL  them,  cover  them,  wall  them  round  — 

Blossom,  and  creeper,  and  weed  — 
Let  us  forget  the  sight  and  the  sound, 
The  smell  and  the  touch  of  the  breed !  " 

Thus  Kipling  wrote  of  " Letting  in  the  Jungle," 
upon  the  Indian  village.  The  forces  of  nature  were 
turned  loose  upon  it.  •  The  gentle  deer  nibbled  at  the 
growing  crops,  the  elephant  trampled  them  down,  and 
the  wild  pig  rooted  them  up.  The  mud  walls  of  the 
thatched  huts  dissolved  in  the  torrents,  and  "by  the 
end  of  the  Rains  there  was  roaring  Jungle  in  full  blast 
on  the  spot  that  had  been  under  plough  not  six  months 
before. "  The  white  man  worked  the  opposite  of  this 
on  what  remained  of  the  American  desert  in  the  last 
fifteen  years  of  the  history  of  the  old  frontier.  In  a 
decade  and  a  half  a  greater  change  came  over  it  than 
the  previous  fifty  years  had  seen,  and  before  1890, 
it  is  fair  to  say  that  the  frontier  was  no  more. 

The  American  frontier,  the  irregular,  imaginary 
line  separating  the  farm  lands  and  the  unused  West, 

*This  chapter  follows,  in  part,  F.  L.  Paxson,  "The  Pacific  Rail- 
roads and  the  Disappearance  of  the  Frontier  in  America,"  in  Ann. 
Rep.  of  the  Am.  Hist.  Assn.,  1907,  Vol.  I,  pp.  105-118. 

372 


LETTING  IN  THE  POPULATION  373 

had  become  nearly  a  circle  before  the  compromise 
of  1850.  In  the  form  of  a  wedge  with  receding  flanks 
it  had  come  down  the  Ohio  and  up  the  Missouri  in  the 
last  generation.  The  flanks  had  widened  out  in  the 
thirties  as  Arkansas,  and  Missouri,  and  Iowa  had 
received  their  population.  In  the  next  ten  years 
Texas  and  the  Pacific  settlements  had  carried  the 
line  further  west  until  the  circular  shape  of  the 
frontier  was  clearly  apparent  by  the  middle  of  the 
century.  And  thus  it  stood,  with  changes  only  in 
detail,  for  a  generation  more^  In  whatever  sense 
the  word  "frontier"  is  used,  the  fact  is  the  same.  If 
it  be  taken  as  the  dividing  line,  as  the  area  enclosed, 
or  as  the  domain  of  the  trapp'er  and  the  rancher,  the 
frontier  of  1880  was  in  most  of  its  aspects  the  frontier 
of  1850. 

The  pressure  on  the  frontier  line  had  increased 
steadily  during  these  thirty  years.  Population 
moved  easily  and  rapidly  after  the  Civil  War.  The 
agricultural  states  abutting  on  the  line  had  grown  in 
size  and  wealth,  with  a  recognition  of  the  barrier  that 
became  clearer  as  more  citizens  settled  along  it. 
East  and  south,  it  was  close  to  the  rainfall  line  which 
divides  easy  farming  country  from  the  semi-arid 
plains;  west,  it  was  a  mountain  range.  In  either 
case  the  country  enclosed  was  too  refractory  to  yield 
to  the  piecemeal  process  which  had  conquered  the 
wilderness  along  other  frontiers,  while  its  check  to 
expansion  and  hindrance  to  communication  became 
of  increasing  consequence  as  population  grew. 


374  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Yet  the  barrier  held.  By  1850  the  agricultural 
frontier  was  pressing  against  it.  By  1860  the  rail- 
way frontier  had  reached  it.  The  former  could  not 
cross  it  because  of  the  slight  temptation  to  agricul- 
ture offered  by  the  lands  beyond;  the  latter  was 
restrained  by  the  prohibitive  cost  of  building  rail- 
ways through  an  entirely  unsettled  district.  Private 
initiative  had  done  all  it  could  in  reclaiming  the  con- 
tinent; the  one  remaining  task  called  for  direct  na- 
tional aid. 

The  influences  operating  upon  this  frontier  of  the 
Far  West,  though  not  making  it  less  of  a  barrier,  made 
it  better  known  than  any  of  the  earlier  frontiers.  In 
the  first  place,  the  trails  crossed  ft.  with  the  result 
that  its  geography  became  well  known  throughout 
the  country.  No  other  frontier  had  been  the  site 
of  a  thoroughfare  for  many  years  before  its  actual 
settlement.  Again,  the  mining  discoveries  of  the 
later  fifties  and  sixties  increased  general  knowledge 
of  the  West,  and  scattered  groups  of  inhabitants  here 
and  there,  without  populating  it  in  any  sense.  Finally 
the  Indian  friction  produced  the  series  of  Indian 
wars  which  again  called  the  wild  West  to  the  centre 
of  the  stage  for  many  years. 

All  of  these  forces  served  to  advertise  the  existence 
of  this  frontier  and  its  barrier  character.  They 
had  cooperated  to  enlarge  the  railway  movement, 
as  it  respected  the  Pacific  roads,  until  the  Union 
Pacific  was  authorized  to  meet  the  new  demand; 
and  while  the  Union  Pacific  was  under  construction, 


LETTING  IN  THE  POPULATION  375 

other  roads  to  meet  the  same  demands  were  chartered 
and  promoted.  These  roads  bridged  and  then  dis- 
pelled the  final  barrier. 

Congress  provided  the  legal  equipment  for  the  anni- 
hilation of  the  entire  frontier  between  1862  and  1871. 
The  charter  acts  of  the  Northern  Pacific,  the  Atlan- 
tic and  Pacific,  the  Texas  Pacific,  and  the  Southern 
Pacific  at  once  opened  the  way  for  some  five  new 
continental  lines  and  closed  the  period  of  direct  fed- 
eral aid  to  railway  construction.  The  Northern  Pa- 
cific received  its  charter  on  the  same  day  that  the 
Union  Pacific  was  given  its  double  subsidy  in  1864. 
It  was  authorized  to  join  the  waters  of  Lake  Superior 
and  Puget  Sound,  and  was  to  receive  a  land  grant  of 
twenty  sections  per  mile  in  the  states  and  forty  in 
the  territories  through  which  it  should  run.  In  the 
summer  of  1866  a  third  continental  route  was  pro- 
vided for  in  the  South  along  the  line  of  the  thirty- 
fifth  parallel  survey.  This,  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific, 
was  to  build  from  Springfield,  Missouri,  by  way  of  Al- 
buquerque, New  Mexico,  to  the  Pacific,  and  to  connect, 
near  the  eastern  line  of  California,  with  the  South- 
ern Pacific,  of  California.  It  likewise  was  promised 
twenty  sections  of  land  in  the  states  and  forty  in  the 
territories.  The  Texas  Pacific  was  chartered  March 
3,  1871,  as  the  last  of  the  land  grant  railways.  It 
received  the  usual  grant,  which  was  applicable  only 
west  of  Texas ;  within  that  state,  between  Texarkana 
and  El  Paso,  it  could  receive  no  federal  aid  since  in 
Texas  there  were  no  public  lands.  Its  charter  called 


376  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

for  construction  to  San  Diego,  but  the  Southern 
Pacific,  building  across  Arizona  and  New  Mexico, 
headed  it  off  at  El  Paso,  and  it  got  no  farther. 

To  these  deliberate  acts  in  aid  of  the  Pacific  rail- 
ways, Congress  added  others  in  the  form  of  local 
or  state  grants  in  the  same  years,  so  that  by  1871  all 
that  the  companies  could  ask  for  the  future  was 
lenient  interpretation  of  their  contracts.  For  the 
first  time  the  federal  government  had  taken  an  ac- 
tive initiative  in  providing  for  the  destruction  of  a 
frontier.  Its  resolution,  in  1871,  to  treat  no  longer 
with  the  Indian  tribes  as  independent  nations  is  evi- 
dence of  a  realization  of  the  approaching  frontier 
change. 

The  new  Pacific  railways  began  to  build  just  as  the 
Union  Pacific  was  completed  and  opened  to  traffic. 
In  the  cases  of  all,  the  development  was  slow,  since 
the  investing  public  had  little  confidence  in  the  ex- 
istence of  a  business  large  enough  to  maintain  four 
systems,  or  in  the  fertility  of  the  semi-arid  desert. 
The  first  period  of  construction  of  all  these  roads  ter- 
minated  in  1873,  when  panic  brought  transportation 
projects  to  an  end,  and  forbade  revival  for  a  period  of 
five  years. 

Jay  Cooke,  whose  Philadelphia  house  had  done 
much  to  establish  public  credit  during  the  war  and 
had  created  a  market  of  small  buyers  for  invest- 
ment securities  on  the  strength  of  United  States 
bonds,  popularized  the  Northern  Pacific  in  1869 
and  1870.  Within  two  years  he  is  said  to  have 


LETTING  IN  THE  POPULATION  377 

raised  thirty  millions  for  the  construction  of  the  road, 
making  its  building  a  financial  possibility.  And 
although  he  may  have  distorted  the  isotherm  several 
degrees  in  order  to  picture  his  farm  lands  as  semi- 
tropical  in  their  luxuriance,  as  General  Hazen  charged, 
he  established  Duluth  and  Tacoma,  gave  St.  Paul 
her  opportunity,  and  had  run  the  main  line  of  track 
through  Fargo,  on  the  Red,  to  Bismarck,  on  the 
Missouri,  more  than  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
from  Lake  Superior,  before  his  failure  in  1873  brought 
expansion  to  an  end. 

For  the  Northwest,  the  construction  of  the  North- 
ern Pacific  was  of  fundamental  importance.  The 
railway  frontier  of  1869  left  Minnesota,  Dakota,  and 
much  of  Wisconsin  beyond  its  reach.  The  potential 
grain  fields  of  the  Red  River  region  were  virgin  forest, 
and  on  the  main  line  of  the  new  road,  for  two  thou- 
sand miles,  hardly  a  trace  of  settled  habitation  ex- 
isted. The  panic  of  1873  caught  the  Union  Pacific 
at  Bismarck,  with  nearly  three  hundred  miles  of  un- 
profitable track  extending  in  advance  of  the  railroad 
frontier.  The  Atlantic  and  Pacific  and  Texas  Pacific 
were  less  seriously  overbuilt,  but  not  less  effectively 
checked.  The  former,  starting  from  Springfield,  had 
constructed  across  southwestern  Missouri  to  Vinita, 
in  Indian  Territory,  where  it  arrived  in  the  fall  of 
1871.  It  had  meanwhile  acquired  some  of  the  old 
Missouri  state-aided  roads,  so  as  to  get  track  into 
St.  Louis.  The  panic  forced  it  to  default,  Vinita  re- 
remained  its  terminus  for  several  years,  and  when  it 


378  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

emerged  from  the  receiver's  hands,  it  bore  the  new 
name  of  St.  Louis  and  San  Francisco. 

The  Texas  Pacific  represented  a  consolidation  of 
local  lines  which  expected,  through  federal  incorpo- 
ration, to  reach  the  dignity  of  a  continental  railroad. 
It  began  its  construction  towards  El  Paso  from 
Shreveport,  Louisiana,  and  Texarkana,  on  the  state 
line,  and  reached  the  vicinity  of  Dallas  and  Fort 
Worth  before  the  panic.  It  planned  to  get  into  St. 
Louis  over  the  St.  Louis,  Iron  Mountain,  and 
Southern,  and  into  New  Orleans  over  the  New 
Orleans  Pacific.  The  borderland  of  Texas,  Arkan- 
sas, and  Missouri  became  through  these  lines  a 
centre  of  railway  development,  while  in  the  near-by 
grazing  country  the  meat-packing  industries  shortly 
found  their  sources  of  supply. 

The  panic  which  the  failure  of  Jay  Cooke  precipi- 
tated in  1873  could  scarcely  have  been  deferred  for 
many  years.  The  waste  of  the  Civil  War  period,  and 
the  enthusiasm  for  economic  development  which 
followed  it,  invited  the  retribution  that  usually 
follows  continued  and  widespread  inflation.  Already 
the  completion  of  a  national  railway  system  was 
foreshadowed.  Heretofore  the  western  demand  had 
been  for  railways  at  any  cost,  but  the  Granger 
activities  following  the  panic  gave  warning  of  an 
approaching  period  when  this  should  be  changed 
into  a  demand  for  regulation  of  railroads.  But 
as  yet  the  frontier  remained  substantially  intact, 
and  until  its  railway  system  should  be  completed  the 


LETTING  IN  THE  POPULATION  379 

Granger  demand  could  not  be  translated  into  an 
effective  movement  for  federal  control.  It  was  not 
until  1879  that  the  United  States  recovered  from  the 
depression  following  the  crisis.  In  that  year  resump- 
tion marked  the  readjustment  of  national  currency, 
reconstruction  was  over,  and  the  railways  entered 
upon  the  last  five  years  of  the  culminating  period  in 
the  history  of  the  frontier.  When  the  five  years  were 
over,  five  new  ™ntin°^tflL  rpyjfafi  -wore  available 
for  transportation.  g^WXS  *-*c 

The  Texas  and  Pacific  had  hardly  started  its  prog- 
ress across  Texas  when  checked  by  the  panic  in  the 
vicinity  of  Fort  Worth.  When  it  revived,  it  pushed 
its  track  towards  Sierra  Blanca  and  El  Paso,  aided  by 
a  land  grant  from  the  state.  Beyond  Texas  it  never 
built.  Corporations  of  California,  Arizona,  and 
New  Mexico,  all  bearing  the  name  of  Southern  Pa- 
cific, constructed  the  line  across  the  Colorado  River 
and  along  the  Gila,  through  lands  acquired  by  the 
Gadsden  Purchase  of  1853.  Trains  were  running  over 
its  tracks  to  St.  Louis  by  January,  1882,  and  to  New 
Orleans  by  the  following  October.  In  the  course  of 
this  Southern  Pacific  construction,  connection  had 
been  made  with  the  Atchison,  Topeka,  and  Santa  Fe 
at  Deming,  New  Mexico,  in  March,  1881,  but  through 
lack  of  harmony  between  the  roads  their  junction 
was  of  little  consequence. 

The  owners  of  the  Southern  Pacific  opened  an 
additional  line  through  southern  Texas  in  the  begin- 
ning of  1883.  Around  the  Gal  vest  on,  Harrisburg, 


380 


THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 


LETTING  IN  THE  POPULATION  381 

and  San  Antonio,  of  Texas,  they  had  grouped  other 
lines  and  begun  double  construction  from  San 
Antonio  west,  and  from  El  Paso,  or  more  accurately 
Sierra  Blanca,  east.  Between  El  Paso  and  Sierra 
Blanca,  a  distance  of  about  ninety  miles,  this  new 
line  and  the  Texas  and  Pacific  used  the  same  track. 
In  later  years  -the  line  through  San  Antonio  and 
Houston  became  the  main  line  of  the  Southern 
Pacific. 

A  third  connection  of  the  Southern  Pacific  across 
Texas  was  operated  before  the  end  of  1883  over  its 
Mojave  extension  in  California  and  the  Atlantic  and 
Pacific  from  the  Needles  to  Albuquerque.  The  old  At- 
lantic and  Pacific  had  built  to  Vinita,  gone  into  receiv- 
ership, and  come  out  as  St.  Louis  and  San  Francisco. 
But  its  land  grant  had  remained  unused,  while  the 
Atchison,  Topeka,  and  Santa  Fe  had  reached  Albu- 
querque and  had  exhausted  its  own  land  grant, 
received  through  the  state  of  Kansas  and  ceasing 
at  the  Colorado  line.  Entering  Colorado,  the  latter 
had  passed  by  Las  Animas  and  thrown  a  branch 
along  the  old  Santa  Fe  trail  to  Santa  Fe  and  Albu- 
querque. Here  it  came  to  an  agreement  with  the  St. 
Louis  and  San  Francisco,  by  which  the  two  roads  were 
to  build  jointly  under  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  fran- 
chise, from  Albuquerque  into  California.  They 
built  rapidly;  but  the  Southern  Pacific,  not  relishing 
a  rival  in  its  state,  had  made  use  of  its  charter  privi- 
lege to  meet  the  new  road  on  the  eastern  boundary 
of  California.  Hence  its  Mojave  branch  was  waiting 


382  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

at  the  Needles  when  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  arrived 
there;  and  the  latter  built  no  farther.  Upon  the 
completion  of  bridges  over  the  Colorado  and  Rio 
Grande  this  third  eastern  connection  of  the  Southern 
Pacific  was  completed  so  that  Pullman  cars  were 
running  through  into  St.  Louis  on  October  21,  1883. 
The  names  of  Billings  and  Villard  are  most  closely 
connected  with  the  renascence  of  the  Northern 
Pacific.  The  panic  had  stopped  this  line  at  the 
Missouri  River,  although  it  had  built  a  few  miles 
in  Washington  territory,  around  its  new  terminal 
city  of  Tacoma.  The  illumination  of  crisis  times 
had  served  to  discredit  the  route  as  effectively  as  Jay 
Cooke  had  served  to  boom  it  with  advertisements  in 
his  palmy  days.  The  existence  of  various  land  grant 
railways  in  Washington  and  Oregon  made  the  revival 
difficult  to  finance  since  its  various  rivals  could  offer 
competition  by  both  water  and  rail  along  the  Colum- 
bia River,  below  Walla  Walla.  Under  the  presidency 
of  Frederick  Billings  construction  revived  about 
1879,  from  Mandan,  opposite  Bismarck  on  the  Mis- 
souri, and  from  Wallula,  at  the  junction  of  the 
Columbia  and  Snake.  From  these  points  lines 
were  pushed  over  the  Pend  d'Oreille  and  Missouri 
divisions  towards  the  continental  divide.  Below 
Wallula,  the  Columbia  Valley  traffic  was  shared  by 
agreement  with  the  Oregon  Railway  and  Navigation 
Company,  which,  under  the  presidency  of  Henry 
Villard,  owned  the  steamship  and  railway  lines  of 
Oregon.  As  the  time  for  opening  the  through  lines 


LETTING  IN  THE  POPULATION  383 

approached,  the  question  of  Columbia  River  com- 
petition increased  in  serious  aspect.  Villard  solved 
the  problem  through  the  agency  of  his  famous 
blind  pool,  which  still  stands  remarkable  in  rail- 
way finance.  With  the  proceeds  of  the  pool  he 
organized  the  Oregon  and  Transcontinental  as  a 
holding  company,  and  purchased  a  controlling  in- 
terest in  the  rival  roads.  With  harmony  of  plan 
thus  insured,  he  assumed  the  presidency  of  the 
Northern  Pacific  in  1881,  in  time  to  complete  and 
celebrate  the  opening  of  its  main  line  in  1883.  His 
celebration  was  elaborate,  yet  the  Nation  remarked 
that  the  "  mere  achievement  of  laying  a  continuous 
rail  across  the  continent  has  long  since  been  taken 
out  of  the  realm  of  marvels,  and  the  country  can 
never  feel  again  the  thrill  which  the  joining  of  the 
Central  and  Union  Pacific  lines  gave  it." 

The  land  grant  railways  completed  these  four 
eastern  connections  across  the  frontier  in  the  period 
of  culmination.  Private  capital  added  a  fifth  in  the 
new  route  through  Denver  and  Ogden,  controlled 
by  the  Chicago,  Burlington,  and  Quincy  and  the 
Denver  and  Rio  Grande.  The  Burlington,  built 
along  the  old  Republican  River  trail  to  Denver,  had 
competed  with  the  Union  Pacific  for  the  traffic  of 
that  point  since  June,  1882.  West  of  Denver  the 
narrow  gauge  of  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  had 
been  advancing  since  1870. 

General  William  J.  Palmer  and  a  group  of  Phila- 
delphia capitalists  had,  in  1870,  secured  a  Colorado 


384  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

charter  for  their  Denver  and  Rio  Grande.  Started 
in  1871,  it  had  reached  the  new  settlement  at 
Colorado  Springs  that  autumn,  and  had  continued 
south  in  later  years.  Like  other  roads  it  had  pro- 
gressed slowly  in  the  panic  years.  In  1876  it  had 
been  met  at  Pueblo  by  the  Atchison,  Topeka,  and 
Santa  Fe.  From  Pueblo  it  contested  successfully 
with  this  rival  for  the  grand  canon  of  the  Arkansas, 
and  built  up  that  valley  through  the  Gunnison 
country  and  across  the  old  Ute  reserve,  to  Grand 
Junction.  From  the  Utah  line  it  had  been  con- 
tinued to  Ogden  by  an  allied  corporation.  A 
through  service  to  Ogden,  inaugurated  in  the  summer 
of  1883,  brought  competition  to  the  Union  Pacific 
throughout  its  whole  extent. 

The  continental  frontier,  whose  isolation  the  Union 
Pacific  had  threatened  in  1869,  was  easily  accessible 
by  1884.  Along  six  different  lines  between  New 
Orleans  and  St.  Paul  it  had  been  made  possible  to 
cross  the  sometime  American  desert  to  the  Pacific 
states.  No  longer  could  any  portion  of  the  republic- 
be  considered  as  beyond  the  reach  of  civilization. 
Instead  of  a  waste  that  forbade  national  unity  in  its 
presence,  a  thousand  plains  stations  beckoned  for 
colonists,  and  through  lines  of  railway  iron  bound 
the  nation  into  an  economic  and  political  unit.  "^As 
thej-ailroads  overtook  tha  successive  lines  of  isolated 
frontier  posts,  and  settlements  spread  out  over 
country  no  longer  requiring  military  protection," 
wrote  General  P.  H.  Sheridan  in  1882,  "the  army 


LETTING  IN  THE  POPULATION  385 

vacated  its  temporary  shelters  and  marched  on  into 
remote  regions  beyond,  there  to  repeat  and  con- 
tinue its  pioneer  work.  In  rear  of  the  advancing  line 
of  troops  the  primitive  '  dug-outs '  and  cabins  of  the 
frontiersmen,  were  steadily  replaced  by  the  taste- 
ful houses,  thrifty  farms,  neat  villages,  and  busy 
towns  of  a  people  who  knew  how  best  to  employ  the 
vast  resources  of  the  great  West.  The  civilization 
from  the  Atlantic  is  now  reaching  out  toward  that 
rapidly  approaching  it  from  the  direction  of  the 
Pacific,  the  long  intervening  strip  of  territory,  ex- 
tending from  the  British  possessions  to  Old  Mexico, 
yearly  growing  narrower;  finally  the  dividing  lines 
will  entirely  disappear  and  the  mingling  settlements 
absorb  the  remnants  of  the  once  powerful  Indian 
nations  who,  fifteen  years  ago,  vainly  attempted  to 
forbid  the  destined  progress  of  the  age."  The 
deluge  of  population  realized  by  Sheridan,  and  let  in^ 
by  the  railways,  had,  by  1890,  blotted  the  uninhabited 
frontier  off  the  map.  Local  spots  yet  remained  un- 
peopled, but  the  census  of  1890  revealed  no  clear 
division  between  the  unsettled  West  and  the  rest  of 
the  United  States. 

New  states  in  plains  and  mountains  marked  the 
abolition  of  the  last  frontier  as  they  had  the  earlier. 
In  less  than  ten  years  the  gap  between  Minnesota 
and  Oregon  was  filled  in:  North  Dakota  and 
South  Dakota,  Montana,  Idaho,  Wyoming,  and 
Washington.  In  1890,  for  the  first  time,  a  solid  band 
of  states  connected  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific.  Farther 

2c 


386  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

south,  the  Indian  Country  succumbed  to  the  new 
pressure.  The  Dawes  bill  released  a  fertile  acreage 
to  be  distributed  to  the  land  hungry  who  had  banked 
up  around  the  borders  of  Kansas,  Arkansas,  and 
Texas.  Oklahoma,  as  a  territory,  appeared  in  1890, 
while  in  eighteen  more  years,  swallowing  up  the 
whole  Indian  Country,  it  had  taken  its  place  as  a 
member  of  the  Union.  Between  the  northern  tier 
of  states  and  Oklahoma,  the  middle  West  had  grown 
as  well.  Kansas,  Nebraska,  and  Colorado,  the 
last  creating  eleven  new  counties  in  its  eastern 
third  in  1889,  had  seen  their  population  densify  under 
the  stimulus  of  easy  transportation.  Much  of  the 
settlement  had  been  premature,  inviting  failure, 
as  populism  later  showed,  but  it  left  no  area  in  the 
United  States  unreclaimed,  inaccessible,  and  large 
enough  to  be  regarded  as  a  national  frontier.  The 
last  frontier,  the  same  that  Long  had  described  as 
the  American  Desert  in  1820,  had  been  won. 


NOTE  ON  THE  SOURCES 

THE  fundamental  ideas  upon  which  all  recent  careful  work  in 
western  history  has  been  based  were  first  stated  by  Frederick  J. 
Turner,  in  his  paper  on  The  Significance  of  the  Frontier  in  Ameri- 
can History,  in  the  Annual  Report  of  the  Am.  Hist.  Assn.,  1893. 
No  comprehensive  history  of  the  trans-Mississippi  West  has  yet 
appeared ;  Randall  Parrish,  The  Great  Plains  (2d  ed.,  Chicago, 
1907),  is  at  best  only  a  brief  and  superficial  sketch;  the  histories 
of  the  several  far  western  states  by  Hubert  Howe  Bancroft  remain 
the  most  useful  collection  of  secondary  materials  upon  the 
subject.  R.  G.  Thwaites,  Rocky  Mountain  Exploration  (N.Y., 
1904);  O.  P.  Austin,  Steps  in  the  Expansion  of  our  Territory 
(N.Y.,  1903) ;  H.  Gannett,  Boundaries  of  the  United  States  and 
of  the  Several  States  and  Territories  (Bulletin  of  the  U.S.  Geological 
Survey,  No.  226, 1904) ;  and  Organic  Acts  for  the  Territories  of  the 
United  States  with  Notes  thereon  (56th  Cong.,  1st  sess.,  Sen.  Doc. 
148),  are  also  of  use. 

The  local  history  of  the  West  must  yet  be  collected  from  many 
varieties  of  sources.  The  state  historical  societies  have  been 
active  for  many  years,  their  more  important  collections  com- 
prising :  Publications  of  the  Arkansas  Hist.  Assn.,  Annals  of  Iowa, 
Iowa  Hist.  Record,  Iowa  Journal  of  Hist,  and  Politics,  Collec- 
tions of  the  Minnesota  Hist.  Soc.,  Trans,  of  the  Kansas  State  Hist. 
Soc.,  Trans,  and  Rep.  of  the  Nebraska  Hist.  Soc.,  Proceedings  oj 
the  Missouri  Hist.  Soc.,  Contrib.  to  the  Hist.  Soc.  of  Montana, 
Quart,  of  the  Oregon  Hist.  Soc.,  Quart,  of  the  Texas  State  Hist. 
Assn.,  Collections  of  the  Wisconsin  State  Hist.  Soc.  The  scattered 
but  valuable  fragments  to  be  found  in  these  files  are  to  be  supple- 
mented by  the  narratives  contained  in  the  histories  of  the 
single  states  or  sections,  the  more  important  of  these  being: 

387 


388  THE  LAST  AMERICAN   FRONTIER 

f1' 

T.  H.  Hittell,  California;  F.  Hall,  Colorado;  J.  C.  Smiley,  Denver 
^(an  Ujiu4ualry  accurate_and  full  piece  of  local  history) ;  W.  Upham, 
jtfmnesota  in  Three  Centuries;  G.  P.  Garrison,  Texas;  E.H.Meany, 
Washington;  J.  Schafer,  Hist,  of  the  Pacific  Northwest;  R.  G. 
Thwaites,  Wisconsin,  and  the  Works  of  H.  H.  Bancroft. 

The  comprehensive  collection  of  geographic  data  for  the  West 
is  the  Reports  of  Explorations  and  Surveys  for  a  Railroad  from  the 
Mississippi  River  to  the  Pacific  Ocean,  made  by  the  War  Depart- 
ment and  published  by  Congress  in  twelve  huge  volumes,  1855  - . 
The  most  important  official  predecessors  of  this  survey  left  the 
following  reports:  E.  James,  Account  of  an  Expedition  from 
Pittsburg  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  performed  in  the  Years  1819, 
1820,  .  .  .  under  the  Command  of  Maj.  S.  H.  Long  (Phila., 
1823) ;  J.  C.  Fremont,  Report  of  the  Exploring  Expeditions  to  the 
Rocky  Mountains  in  the  Year  1842,  and  to  Oregon  and  North 
California  in  the  Years  1843-'44  (28th  Cong.,  2d  sess.,  Sen.  Doc. 
174) ;  W.  H.  Emory,  Notes  of  a  Military  Reconnoissance  from  Ft. 
Leavenworth  .  .  .  to  San  Diego  .  .  .  (30th  Cong.,  1st  sess.,  Ex. 
Doc.  41) ;  H.  Stansbury,  Exploration  and  Survey  of  the  Valley  of 
the  Great  Salt  Lake  of  Utah  .  .  .  (32d  Cong.,  1st  sess.,  Sen.  Ex. 
Doc.  3).  From  the  great  number  of  personal  narratives  of 
western  trips,  those  of  James  O.  Pattie,  John  B.  Wyeth,  John  K. 
Townsend,  and  Joel  Palmer  may  be  selected  as  typical  and 
useful.  All  of  these,  as  well  as  the  James  narrative  of  the  Long 
expedition,  are  reprinted  in  the  monumental  R.  G.  Thwaites, 
Early  Western  Travels,  which  does  not,  however,  give  any  aid  for 
the  period  after  1850.  Later  travels  of  importance  are  J.  I. 
Thornton,  Oregon  and  California  in  1848  ...  (N.Y.,  1849); 
Horace  Greeley,  An  Overland  Journey  from  New  York  to  San 
Francisco  in  the  Summer  of  1859  (N.Y.,  1860);  R.  F.  Burton, 
The  City  of  the  Saints,  and  across  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  Califor- 
nia (N.Y.,  1862) ;  R.  B.  Marcy,  The  Prairie  Traveller,  a  Hand- 
book for  Overland  Expeditions  (edited  by  R.  F.  Burton,  London, 
1863) ;  F.  C.  Young,  Across  the  Plains  in  '65  (Denver,  1905) ; 
Samuel  Bowles,  Across  the  Continent  (Springfield,  1861) ;  Samuel 


NOTE  ON  THE  SOURCES  389 

Bowles,  Our  New  West,  Records  of  Travels  between  the  Mississippi 
River  and  the  Pacific  Ocean  (Hartford,  1869) ;  W.  A.  Bell,  New 
Tracks  in  North  America  (2d  ed.,  London,  1870) ;  J.  H.  Beadle, 
The  Undeveloped  West,  or  Five  Years  in  the  Territories  (Phila., 
1873). 

The  classic  account  of  traffic  on  the  plains  is  Josiah  Gregg, 
Commerce  of  the  Prairies,  or  the  Journal  of  a  Santa  Fe  Trader 
(many  editions,  and  reprinted  in  Thwaites) ;  H.  M.  Chittenden, 
History  of  Steamboat  Navigation  on  the  Missouri  River  (N.Y., 
1903),  and  The  American  Fur  Trade  of  the  Far  West  (N.Y , 
1902),  are  the  best  modern  accounts.  A  brilliant  sketch  is  C.  F. 
Lummis,  Pioneer  Transportation  in  America,  Its  Curiosities  and 
Romance  (McC lure's  Magazine,  1905).  Other  works  of  use  are 
Henry  Inman,  The  Old  Santa  Fe  Trail  (N.Y.,  1898);  Henry 
Inman  and  William  F.  Cody,  The  Great  Salt  Lake  Trail  (N.Y., 
1898) ;  F.  A.  Root  and  W.  E.  Connelley,  The  Overland  Stage  to 
California  (Topeka,  1901) ;  F.  G.  Young,  The  Oregon  Trail,  in 
Oregon  Hist.  Soc.  Quarterly,  Vol.  I;  F.  Parkman,  The  Oregon 
Trail 

Railway  transportation  in  the  Far  West  yet  awaits  its  historian. 
Some  useful  antiquarian  data  are  to  be  found  in  C.  F.  Carter, 
When  Railroads  were  New  (N.Y.,  1909),  and  there  are  a  few 
histories  of  single  roads,  the  most  valuable  being  J.  P.  Davis, 
The  Union  Pacific  Railway  (Chicago,  1894),  and  E.  V.  Smalley, 
History  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  (N.Y.,  1883).  L.  H. 
Haney,  A  Congressional  History  of  Railways  in  the  United  States 
to  1850;  J.  B.  Sanborn,  Congressional  Grants  of  Lands  in  Aid  of 
Railways,  and  B.  H.  Meyer,  The  Northern  Securities  Case,  all  in 
the  Bulletins  of  the  University  of  Wisconsin,  contain  much  in- 
formation and  useful  bibliographies.  The  local  historical  socie- 
ties have  published  many  brief  articles  on  single  lines.  There 
is  a  bibliography  of  the  continental  railways  in  F.  L.  Paxson, 
The  Pacific  Railroads  and  the  Disappearance  of  the  Frontier  in 
America,  in  Ann.  Rep.  of  the  Am.  Hist.  Assn.,  1907.  Their  social 
and  political  aspects  may  be  traced  in  J.  B.  Crawford,  The 


390  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

Credit  Mobilier  of  America  (Boston,  1880)  and  E.  W.  Martin, 
History  of  the  Granger  Movement  (1874).  The  sources,  which 
are  as  yet  uncollected,  are  largely  in  the  government  documents 
and  the  files  of  the  economic  and  railroad  periodicals. 

For  half  a  century,  during  which  the  Indian  problem  reached 
and  passed  its  most  difficult  places,  the  United  States  was  negli- 
gent in  publishing  compilations  of  Indian  laws  and  treaties. 
In  1837  the  Commissioner  of  Indian  Affairs  published  in  Washing- 
ton, Treaties  between  the  United  States  of  America  and  the  Several 
Indian  Tribes,  from  1778  to  18^7:  with  a  copious  Table  of  Con- 
tents. After  this  date,  documents  and  correspondence  were  to 
be  found  only  in  the  intricate  sessional  papers  and  the  Annual 
Reports  of  the  Commissioner  of  Indian  Affairs,  which  accom- 
panied the  reports  of  the  Secretary  of  War,  1832-1849,  and  those 
of  the  Secretary  of  the  Interior  after  1849.  In  1902  Congress 
published  C.  J.  Kappler,  Indian  Affairs,  Laws,  and  Treaties 
(57th  Cong.,  1st  sess.,  Sen.  Doc.  452) .  Few  historians  have  made 
serious  use  of  these  compilations  or  reports.  Two  other  govern- 
ment documents  of  great  value  in  the  history  of  Indian  negotia- 
tions are,  Thomas  Donaldson,  The  Public  Domain  (47th  Cong.,  2d 
sess.,  H.  Misc.  Doc.  45,  Pt.  4),  and  C.  C.  Royce,  Indian  Land 
Cessions  in  the  United  States  (with  many  charts,  in  18th  Ann. 
Rep.  of  the  Bureau  of  Am.  Ethnology,  Pt.  2,  1896-1897).  Most 
special  works  on  the  Indians  are  partisan,  spectacular,  or  ill 
informed ;  occasionally  they  have  all  these  qualities.  A  few  of 
the  most  accessible  are :  A.  H.  Abel,  History  of  the  Events 
resulting  in  Indian  Consolidation  West  of  the  Mississippi  (in  Ann. 
Rep.  of  the  Am.  Hist.  Assn.,  1906,  an  elaborate  and  scholarly 
work) ;  J.  P.  Dunn,  Massacres  of  the  Mountains,  a  History  of  the 
Indian  Wars  of  the  Far  West  (N.Y.,  1886;  a  relatively  critical 
work,  with  some  bibliography) ;  R.  I.  Dodge,  Our  Wild  Indians . . . 
(Hartford,  1883);  G.  E.  Edwards,  The  Red  Man  and  the  White 
Man  in  North  America  from  its  Discovery  to  the  Present  Time 
(Boston,  1882 ;  a  series  of  Lowell  Institute  lectures,  by  no  means 
so  valuable  as  the  pretentious  title  would  indicate);  I.  V.  D. 


NOTE  ON  THE  SOURCES  391 

Heard,  History  of  the  Sioux  War  and  Massacres  of  1862  and  1863 
(N.Y.,  1863 ;  a  contemporary  and  useful  narrative) ;  0. 0.  Howard, 
Nez  Perce  Joseph,  an  Account  of  his  Ancestors,  his  Lands,  his 
Confederates,  his  Enemies,  his  Murders,  his  War,  his  Pursuit  and 
Capture  (Boston,  1881 ;  this  is  General  Howard's  personal  vindi- 
cation); Mrs.  Helen  Hunt  Jackson,  A  Century  of  Dishonor,  a 
Sketch  of  the  United  States  Government's  Dealings  with  Some  of 
the  Indian  Tribes  (N.Y.,  1881 ;  highly  colored  and  partisan) ; 
G.  W.  Manypenny,  Our  Indian  Wards  (Cincinnati,  1880;  by  a 
former  Indian  Commissioner) ;  L.  E.  Textor,  Official  Relations 
between  the  United  States  and  the  Sioux  Indians  (Palo  Alto,  1896; 
one  of  the  few  scholarly  and  dispassionate  works  on  the  Indians) ; 
F.  A.  Walker,  The  Indian  Question  (Boston,  1874;  three  essays  by 
a  former  Indian  Commissioner) ;  C.  T.  Brady,  Indian  Fights  and 
Fighters  and  Northwestern  Fights  and  Fighters  (N.Y.,  1907;  two 
volumes  in  his  series  of  American  Fights  and  Fighters,  prepared 
for  consumers  of  popular  sensational  literature,  but  containing 
much  valuable  detail,  and  some  critical  judgments). 

Nearly  every  incident  in  the  history  of  Indian  relations  has 
been  made  the  subject  of  investigations  by  the  War  and  Interior 
departments.  The  resulting  collections  of  papers  are  to  be  found 
in  the  congressional  documents,  through  the  indexes.  They  are 
too  numerous  to  be  listed  here.  The  searcher  should  look  for  re- 
pTMs  from  the  Secretary  of  War,  the  Secretary  of  the  Interior, 
or  the  Postmaster-general,  for  court-martial  proceedings,  and 
for  reports  of  special  committees  of  Congress.  Dunn  gives  some 
classified  lists  in  his  Massacres  of  the  Mountains. 

There  is  a  rapidly  increasing  mass  of  individual  biography  and 
reminiscence  for  the  West  during  this  period.  Some  works  of 
this  class  which  have  been  found  useful  here  are :  W.  M.  Meigs, 
Thomas  Hart  Benton  (Phila.,  1904) ;  C.  W.  Upham,  Life,  Explora- 
tions, and  Public  Services  of  John  Charles  Fremont  (40th  thousand, 
Boston,  1856) ;  S.  B.  Harding,  Life  of  George  B.  Smith,  Founder  of 
Sedalia,  Missouri  (Sedalia,  1907) ;  P.  H.  Burnett,  Recollections  and 
Opinions  of  an  Old  Pioneer  (N.Y.,  1880;  by  one  who  had  followed 


392  THE  LAST  AMERICAN  FRONTIER 

the  Oregon  trail  and  had  later  become  governor  of  California) ; 
A.  Johnson,  S.  A.  Douglas  (N.Y.,  1908;  one  of  the  most  signifi- 
cant biographies  of  recent  years);  H.  Stevens,  Life  of  Isaac 
Ingalls  Stevens  (Boston,  1900) ;  R.  S.  Thorndike,  The  Sherman 
Letters  (N.Y.,  1894;  full  of  references  to  frontier  conditions  in  the 
sixties);  P.  H.  Sheridan,  Personal  Memoirs  (London,  1888;  with 
a  good  map  of  the  Indian  war  of  1867-1868,  which  the  later 
edition  has  dropped) ;  E.  P.  Oberholtzer,  Jay  Cooke,  Financier 
of  the  Civil  War  (Phila.,  1907;  with  details  of  Northern  Pacific 
railway  finance) ;  H.  Villard,  M emoirs  (Boston,  1904;  the  life  of 
an  active  railway  financier) ;  Alexander  Majors,  Seventy  Years  on 
the  Frontier  (N.Y.,  1893;  the  reminiscences  of  one  who  had  be- 
longed to  the  great  firm  of  Russell,  Majors,  and  Waddell) ;  G.  R. 
Brown,  Reminiscences  of  William  M.  Stewart  of  Nevada  (1908). 

Miscellaneous  works  indicating  various  types  of  materials 
which  have  been  drawn  upon  are :  O.  J.  Hollister,  The  Mines  of 
Colorado  (Springfield,  1867;  a  miners'  handbook);  S.  Mowry, 
Arizona  and  Sonora  (3d  ed.,  1864;  written  in  the  spirit  of  a  mining 
prospectus) ;  T.  B.  H.  Stenhouse,  The  Rocky  Mountain  Saints 
(London,  1874;  a  credible  account  from  a  Mormon  missionary 
who  had  recanted  without  bitterness) ;  W.  A.  Linn,  The  Story 
of  the  Mormons  (N.Y.,  1902;  the  only  critical  history  of  the 
Mormons,  but  having  a  strong  Gentile  bias) ;  T.  J.  Dimsdale,  The 
Vigilantes  of  Montana,  or  Popular  Justice  in  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains (2d  ed.,  Virginia  City,  1882;  a  good  description  of  the 
social  order  of  the  mining  camp), 


INDEX 


Acton,  Minnesota,  Sioux  massacre 

at,  235. 

Alder  Gulch  mines,  Idaho,  168. 
Anthony,  Major  Scott  J.,  259. 
Apache  Indians,  247,  267,  268,  292, 

312;    treaty  of  1853  with,   124; 

troubles  with,  in  Arizona,   162- 

163;    last   struggles   of,    against 

whites,  368-369. 
Arapaho    Indians,    247,    248,    252, 

256  ff.,  263,  267,  292;    Medicine 

Lodge     treaty     with,     292-293; 

issue  of  arms  to,  312-313;    join 

in  war  of  1868,  313-318 ;  Ouster's 

defeat  of,  317-318. 
Arapahoe,  county  of,  141. 
Arickara  Indians,  treaties  of  1851 

with,  123-124. 
Arizona,    beginnings    of,     158    ff. ; 

erection  of  territory  of,  162. 
Arkansas,    boundaries    of,    28-29; 

admission  as  a  state,  40. 
Army,  question  of  control  of  Ind- 
ian affairs  by,  324-344. 
Assiniboin     Indians,      treaties     of 

1851  with,  123-124. 
Atchison,  Senator,  129. 
Atchison,   Topeka,   and   Santa   F6 

Railway,  347,  384. 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  Railway,  375, 

376,  377 ;  becomes  the  St.  Louis 

and  San  Francisco,  378. 
Augur,    General   C.    C.,    292,    295, 

359. 
Auraria  settlement,  Colorado,  142. 

Bannack  City,  mining  centre,  168. 

Bannock  Indians,  295. 

Beadle,  John  H.,  on  western  rail- 
ways and  their  builders,  332-333, 
335. 


Bear  Flag  Republic,  the,  105. 

Becknell,  William,  56. 

Beckwith,  Lieut.  E.  G.,  Pacific 
railway  survey  by,  203-206. 

Bell,  English  traveller,  on  railway 
building  in  the  West,  329-331. 

Benton,  Thomas  Hart,  58 ;  interest 
of,  in  railways,  193-194. 

Bent's  Fort,  65,  66. 

Billings,  Frederick,  382. 

Blackfoot  Indians,  264. 

Black  Hawk,  Colorado,  village  of, 
145. 

Black  Hawk,  Indian  chief,  17. 

Black  Hawk  War,  21,  25-26,  37. 

Black  Hills,  discovery  of  gold  in, 
359 ;  troubles  with  Indians 
resulting  from  discovery,  361  ff. 

Black  Kettle,  Indian  chief,  255- 
261;  leads  war  party  in  1868, 
313;  death  of,  317. 

Blind  pool,  Villard's,  383. 

Bois6  mines,  165. 

Boulder,  Colorado,  145. 

Bowles,  Samuel,  on  railway  ter- 
minal towns,  332,  333. 

Box  family  outrage,  307. 

Bridge  across  the  Mississippi,  the 
first,  210. 

Bridger,  "Jim, "274. 

Brown,  John,  murder  of  Kansans 
by,  134. 

Brul6  Sioux  Indians,  264,  266. 

Bull  Bear,  Indian  chief,  309. 

Bureau  of  Indian  Affairs,  31,  123, 
341  ff. 

Burlington,  capital  of  Iowa  terri- 
tory, 45  ;  description  of,  in  1840, 
47-48. 

Burnett,  governor  of  California, 
117. 


393 


394 


INDEX 


Bushwhacking    in    Kansas    during 

Civil  War,  231. 
Butterfield,  John,  mail  and  express 

route  of,  177  ff. 
Byers,  Denver  editor,  144 ;  quoted, 

149,  150. 

Caddo  Indians,  28. 

California,  early  American  designs 
on,  104—105;  becomes  American 
possession,  105 ;  discovery  of 
gold  in,  and  results,  108-113; 
population  in  1850,  117;  local 
railways  constructed  in,  219  ; 
Central  Pacific  Railway  in,  220, 
222. 

Camels,  experiment  with,  in  Texas, 
176. 

Camp  Grant  massacre,  162. 

Canals,  land  grants  in  aid  of,  215, 
217. 

Canby,  E.  R.  S.,  228,  233 ;  murder 
of,  367. 

Carleton,  Colonel  J.  H.,  160,  233. 

Carlyle,  George  H.,  250-251. 

Carrington,  Colonel  Henry  B.,  274- 
275. 

Carson,  Kit,  285. 

Carson  City,  157-158. 

Carson  County,  157. 

Cass,  Lewis,  21,  23. 

Census  of  Indians,  in  1880,  351. 

Central  City,  Colorado,  145. 

Central  Overland,  California,  and 
Pike's  Peak  Express,  186. 

Central  Pacific  of  California  Rail- 
way, 220,  222;  description  of 
construction  of,  325-335. 

Cherokee  Indians,  28—29. 

Cherokee  Neutral  Strip,  29. 

Cheyenne,  founding  of,  301 :  con- 
sequence of,  as  a  railway  junc- 
tion, 334. 

Cheyenne  Indians,  massacre  of,  at 
Sand  Creek,  260-2C1;  assigned 
lands  in  Indian  Territory,  263; 
Medicine  Lodge  treaty  with,  292- 
293;  issue  of  arms  to,  312-313; 
begin  war  against  whites  in 


1868,    313;    Custer's   defeat   of, 

317-318. 
Chicago,    Burlington,  and    Quincy 

Railway,  383. 
Chickasaw  Indians,  28-29. 
Chief  Joseph,  leader  of  Nez  Perce" 

Indians,  363-365  •    military  skill 

shown    by,    in    retreat    of    Nez 

Percys,  366-367. 
Chief  Lawyer,  363-364. 
Chinese  labor  for  railway  building, 

326-327. 

Chippewa  Indians,  26-27. 
Chittenden,  Hiram  Martin,  72-71, 

93. 
Chivington,    J.   M.,    229-230,    257; 

massacre    of    Indians    at    Sand 

Creek  by,  260-251. 
Civil   War,   the   West   during   the, 

225  ff. 

Claims  associations,  47. 
Clark,  Governor,  20,  21,  25. 
Clemens,  S.  L.,  quoted,  186-187. 
Cody,  William  F.,  184. 
Colley,   Major,   Indian  agent,   255, 

258,  262. 
Colorado,  first  settlements  in,  142- 

145;      movement     for    separate 

government  for,  146  ff . ;    Senate 

bill  for  erection  of  territory  of, 

151,  154;     boundaries    of,    154; 

admission  of,  and  first  governor, 

154-155;    during  the  Civil  War, 

228-230. 

Colorado-Idaho  plan,  151. 
Comanche    Indians,   28,    124,   252, 

253,  263,  267,  268,  292. 
Comstock  lode,  the,  157. 
Conestoga  wagons,  41,  64. 
Connor,  General  Patrick  E.,  274. 
Cooke,  Jay,  railway  promotion  and 

later  failure  of,  376-377. 
Cooper,  Colonel,  57. 
Council   Bluffs,   importance   of,   as 

a  railway  terminus,  334. 
Council  Grove,  rendezvous  of  Santa 

F6  traders,  59,  63-64. 
Credit  Mobilier,  the,  335. 
Creek  Indians,  28-29. 


INDEX 


395 


Crocker,  Charles,  220;  activity  of, 
as  a  railway  builder,  327. 

Crook,  General  George,  368-369. 

Crow  Indians,  treaties  of  1851  with, 
123-124. 

Culbertson,  Alexander,  200. 

Cumberland  Road,  41,  215,  325. 

Custer,  General,  304,  306,  307  ff., 
310,  316,  359;  commands  in 
attack  on  Cheyenne,  316-318; 
romantic  character  of,  and  death 
in  Sioux  war,  362. 

Dakota,  erection  and  growth  of 
territory  of,  166-167;  Idaho 
created  from  a  part  of,  167. 

Dawes  bill  of  1887,  for  division  of 
lands  among  Indians,  354—355 ; 
effect  of,  on  Indian  reserves, 
356. 

Delaware  Indians,  settlement  of, 
in  the  West,  24,  127. 

Demoine  County  created,  42. 

Denver,  settlement  of,  142;  early 
caucuses  and  conventions  at, 
147-149. 

Denver  and  Rio  Grande  Railway, 
383-384. 

Desert,  tradition  of  a  great  Ameri- 
can, 11-13;  disappearance  of 
tradition,  119;  Kansas  formed 
out  of  a  portion  of,  137;  final 
conquest  by  railways  of  region 
known  as,  384-386. 

Digger  Indians,  203-204. 

Dillon,  President,  336. 

Dodge,  Henry,  35-36,  37-38,  44, 
328-329. 

Dole,  W.  P.,  Indian  Commissioner, 
239. 

Donnelly,  Ignatius,  237. 

Douglas,  Stephen  A.,  128,  213-214. 

Downing,  Major  Jacob,  252,  260. 

Dubuque,  lead  mines  at,  34;  as  a 
mining  camp,  42. 

Dubuque  County  created,  42. 

Education  of  Indians,  351-352. 
Emigrant  Aid  Society,  130. 


Emory,  Lieut.-Col.,  survey  by, 
208. 

Erie  Canal,  10,  21,  24,  38,  325. 

Evans,  Governor,  war  against  Ind- 
ians conducted  by,  253  ff.; 
quoted,  269. 

Ewbank  Station  massacre,  250. 

Fairs,  agricultural,  for  Indians, 
352-353. 

Falls  line,  5. 

Far  West,  Mormon  headquarters 
at,  90. 

Fetterman,  Captain  W.  J.,  274, 
277-278,  279;  slaughter  of,  by 
Indians,  280-281. 

Fiske,  Captain  James  L.,  188. 

Fitzpatrick,  Indian  agent,  122-124. 

Fort  Armstrong,  purchase  at,  of 
Indian  lands,  26. 

Fort  Benton,  163,  164. 

Fort  Bridger,  301. 

Fort  C.  F.  Smith,  275-277.       . 

Fort  Hall,  74. 

Fort  Kearney,  78. 

Fort  Laramie,  78,  121;  treaties 
with  Indians  signed  at,  in  1851, 
123-124;  conference  of  Peace 
Commission  with  Indians  held  at 
(1807),  291. 

Fort  Larned,  conference  with  Ind- 
ians at,  308. 

Fort  Leavenworth,  24,  59. 

Fort  Philip  Kearney,  Indian  fight 
at  (1866),  274-275;  extermina- 
tion of  Fetterman 's  party  at, 
280-282. 

Fort  Pierre,  267. 

Fort  Ridgely,  Sioux  attack  on, 
235-236. 

Fort  Snelling,  33-34,  48. 

Fort  Su'ly  conference,  271-272, 
273. 

Fort  Whipple,  162. 

Fort  Winnebago,  35. 

Fort  Wise,  treaty  with  Indians 
signed  at,  249. 

Forty-niners,  109-118. 

Fox  Indians,  21,  25,  26,  127. 


396 


INDEX 


Flandrau,  Judge  Charles  E.,  236- 
237. 

Franklin,  town  of,  63. 

Freighting  on  the  plains,  174  ff. 

Fremont,  John  C.,  58;  explora- 
tions of,  beyond  the  Rockies, 
73-75,  195;  senator  from  Cali- 
fornia, 117. 

Fur  traders,  pioneer  western,  70- 
71. 

Galbraith,  Thomas  J.,  Indian  agent, 
238. 

Geary,  John  W.,  135. 

Georgetown,  Colorado,  145. 

Geronimo,  Indian  chief,  369. 

Gilpin,  William,  first  governor  of 
Colorado  Territory,  155 ;  quoted, 
225;  responsibility  assumed  by, 
during  the  Civil  War,  228-229. 

Gold,  discovery  of,  in  California, 
108-113;  in  Pike's  Peak  region, 
141-142;  in  the  Black  Hills, 
359-361. 

Grattan,  Lieutenant,  265. 

Great  American  desert.  See  Des- 
ert. 

Great  Salt  Lake.     See  Salt  Lake. 

Great  Salt  Lake  Valley  Carrying 
Company,  176. 

Greeley,  Horace,  western  adven- 
tures of,  145,  179,  182. 

Gregg,  Josiah,  61-62. 

Grosventre  Indians,  treaties  of 
1851  with,  123-124. 

Guerrilla  conflicts  during  the  Civil 
War,  230-233. 

Gunnison,  Captain  J.  W.,  204-205. 

Hancock,  General  W.  S.,  306-311. 
Hand-cart     incident     in     Mormon 

emigration,  100-101. 
Harney,  General,  266. 
Harte,  Bret,  verses  by,  338. 
Hayt,  E.  A.,  Indian  Commissioner, 

350. 

Hazen,  General  W.  B.,  320-321. 
Helena,  growth  of  city  of,  169. 
Highland  settlement,  Colorado,  142. 


Holladay,      Ben,      186-190,      284; 

losses  from  Indians  by,  250. 
Hopkins,  Mark,  220. 
Howard,  General  O.  O.,  365-366. 
Hungate    family,    murder    of,    by 

Indians,  253. 
Hunkpapa  Indians,  264. 
Hunter,     General,     in     charge     of 

Department    of    Kansas    during 

Civil  War,  230-231. 
Huntington,  Collis  P.,  220. 

Idaho,  proposed  name  for  Colorado, 
151,  154;  establishment  of  ter- 
ritory of,  166-167. 

Idaho  Springs,  settlement  of,  145. 

Illinois,  opening  of,  to  whites, 
21. 

Illinois  Central  Railroad,  210,  216- 
218. 

Independence,  town  of,  63;  out- 
fitting post  of  traders,  71 ;  Mor- 
mons at,  89-90. 

Indian  agents,  position  of,  in  re- 
gard to  Indian  affairs,  304-305; 
question  regarding,  as  opposed  to 
military  control  of  Indians,  342- 
343. 

Indian  Bureau,  creation  of,  31 ; 
transference  from  War  Depart- 
ment to  the  Interior,  123;  his- 
tory of  the,  341  ff. 

Indian  Commissioners,  Board  of, 
created  in  1869,  345. 

Indian  Intercourse  Act,  31. 

Indian  Territory,  position  of  Ind- 
ians in,  during  the  Civil  War, 
240-241;  breaking  up  of,  fol- 
lowing allotment  of  lands  to 
individual  Indians,  357. 

Indians,  numbers  of,  in  United 
States,  14;  governmental  policy 
regarding,.  16  ff . ;  Monroe's 
policy  of  removal  of,  to  western 
lands,  18-19;  treaties  of  1825 
with,  19-20;  allotment  of  terri- 
tory among,  on  western  frontier, 
20-30;  troubles  with,  resulting 
from  Oregon,  California,  and 


INDEX 


397 


Mormon  emigrations,  119-123 ; 
fresh  treaties  with  at  Upper 
Platte  agency  in  1851,  123-124; 
further  cession  of  lands  in  Ind- 
ian Country  by,  in  1854,  127; 
treatment  of,  by  Arizona  settlers, 
162-163;  danger  to  overland 
mail  and  express  business  from, 
187-188,  250;  Digger  Indians, 
203-204 ;  the  Sioux  war  in  Min- 
nesota, 234  ff. ;  effect  of  the  Civil 
War  on,  240-242;  causes  of 
restlessness  of,  during  Civil  War, 
234  ff . ;  antagonism  of,  aroused 
by  advance  westward  of  whites, 
244-252;  conditions  leading  to 
Sioux  war,  264  ff . ;  war  with 
plains  Sioux  (1866),  273-283; 
the  discussion  as  to  proper 
treatment  of,  284-288 ;  appoint- 
ment of  Peace  Commissioner  of 
1867  to  end  Cheyenne  and  Sioux 
troubles,  289-290 ;  Medicine 
Lodge  treaties  concluded  with, 
292-293;  report  and  recom- 
mendations of  Peace  Commis- 
sion, 296-298;  interval  of  peace 
with,  302-303 ;  continued 
troubles  with,  and  causes,  304  ff .  ; 
war  begun  by  Arapahoes  and 
Cheyenne  in  1868,  313;  war  of 
1868,  313-318 ;  President  Grant 
appoints  board  of  civilian  Indian 
commissioners,  323,  341  ff . ;  rail- 
way builders'  troubles  with, 
328-329;  question  of  civilian 
or  military  control  of,  342-344; 
Board  of  Commissioners,  ap- 
pointed for  (1869),  345;  Con- 
gress decides  to  make  no  more 
treaties  with,  348;  mistaken 
policy  of  treaties,  348-349 ;  cen- 
sus of,  in  1880,  351 ;  agricultural 
fairs  for,  352-353;  individual 
ownership  of  land  by,  354-357; 
effect  of  allotment  of  lands 
among,  on  Indian  reserves,  356- 
357;  end  of  Monroe's  policy, 
357;  last  struggles  of  the  Sioux, 


Nez  Percys,  and  Apaches,  361- 
371. 

Inkpaduta's  massacre,  51. 

Inman,  Colonel  Henry,  quoted, 
285. 

Iowa,  Indian  lands  out  of  which 
formed,  26;  territory  of,  or- 
ganized, 45. 

Iowa  Indians,  127. 

Jackson,  Helen  Hunt,  work  by, 
344. 

Jefferson,  early  name  of  state  of 
Colorado,  147,  149,  151,  153,  155. 

Johnston,  Albert  Sidney,  com- 
mands army  against  Mormons, 
102;  escapes  to  the  South,  on 
opening  of  the  Civil  War,  226- 
227. 

Jones  and  Russell,  firm  of,  181. 

Judah,  Theodore  D.,  219,  220,  326. 

Julesburg,  station  on  overland 
mail  route,  182,  331. 

Kanesville,  Iowa,  founding  of,  95. 

Kansa  Indians,  19,  20,  24. 

Kansas,  reasons  for  settlement  of, 
124-125;  creation  of  territory 
of,  129;  the  slavery  struggle  in, 
129-131;  squatters  on  Indian 
lands  in,  131-132;  further  con- 
tests between  abolition  and  pro- 
slave  parties,  132-136;  admis- 
sion to  the  union  in  1861,  136; 
boundaries  of,  138;  during  the 
Civil  War,  230-233. 

Kansas-Nebraska  bill,  128-129. 

Kansas  Pacific  Railway,  340. 

Kaskaskia  Indians,  30,  127. 

Kaw  Indians.     See  Kansa  Indians. 

Kearny,  Stephen  W.,  65-66,  78. 

Kendall,  Superintendent  of  Indian 
department,  quoted,  165. 

Keokuk,  Indian  chief,  25. 

Kickapoo  Indians,  24,  127. 

Kiowa  Indians,  252,  253,  263,  267, 
268,  292,  306. 

Kirtland,  Ohio,  temporary  head- 
quarters of  Mormons,  88, 


398 


INDEX 


Labor  question  in  railway  construc- 
tion, 326-327. 

Lake-to-Gulf  railway  scheme,  217. 
Land,  allotment  of,  to  Indians  as 

individuals,  354-357. 
Land  grants  in  aid  of  railways,  215— 

218,  222,  325,  329,  336,  375. 
Land    titles,    pioneers'    difficulties 

over,  46-47. 

Larimer,  William,  147,  152. 
Last  Chance  Gulch,  Idaho,  mining 

district,  169. 

Lawrence,  Amos  A.,  130. 
Lawrence,    Kansas,   settlement   of, 

130—131 ;    visit  of  Missouri  mob 

to,  134;  Quantrill's  raid  on,  232. 
Lead  mines  about   Dubuque,   34- 

35. 
Leavenworth,  J.  H.,  Indian  agent, 

306,  308-309. 
Leavenworth     and     Pike's     Peak 

Express  Company,  181. 
Leavenworth     constitution,      135- 

136. 

Lecompton  constitution,  135-136. 
Lewiston,     Washington,     founding 

of,  164. 

Linn,  Senator,  72-73. 
Liquor  question  in  Oregon,  81-82. 
Little    Big   Horn,    battle    of    the, 

362. 
Little  Blue  Water,  defeat  of  BrulS 

Sioux  at,  266. 

Little  Crow,  Sioux  chief,  235-239. 
Little  Raven,  Indian  chief,  306. 
Long,  Major  Stephen  H.,  11. 

McClellan,  George  B.,  survey  for 
Pacific  railway  by,  199. 

Madison,  Wisconsin,  development 
of,  44,  45. 

Mails,  carriage  of,  to  frontier  points, 
174  ff. 

Manypenny,  George  W.,  126,  266. 

Marsh,  O.  C.,  bad  treatment  of 
Indians  revealed  by,  360-361. 

Marshall,  James  W.,  108-109. 

Massachusetts  Emigrant  Aid  So- 
ciety, 130. 


Medicine  Lodge  Creek,  conference 
with  Indians  at,  292-293. 

Menominee  Indians,  27. 

Methodist  missionaries  to  western 
Indians,  72. 

Mexican  War,  Army  of  the  West 
in  the,  65-66. 

Miami  Indians,  30,  127. 

Michigan,  territory  and  state  of, 
39-40. 

Miles,  General  Nelson  A.,  as  an 
Indian  fighter,  366,  370. 

Milwaukee,  founding  of,  44. 

Mines,  trails  leading  to,  169-170. 

Miniconjou  Indians,  265. 

Mining,  lead,  34-35,  42;  gold, 
108-113,  141-142,  156-157,  359- 
361 ;  silver,  157  ff. 

Mining  camps,  description  of,  170- 
173. 

Minnesota,  organization  of,  as  a 
terri  ory,  48-49;  Sioux  war  in, 
in  1862,  234  ff. 

Missionaries,  pioneer,  72;  civili- 
zation and  education  of  Indians 
by,  345-346. 

Missoula  County,  Washington  Ter- 
ritory, 168. 

Missouri  Indians,  127. 

Modoc  Indians,  last  war  of  the, 
367. 

Modoc  Jack,  367. 

Mojave  branch  of  Southern  Pacific 
Railway,  381-382. 

Monroe's  policy  toward  Indians, 
18-19 ;  end  of,  357. 

Montana,  creation  of  territory  of, 
169. 

Montana  settlement,  Colorado,  142. 

Monteith,  Indian  Agent,  365. 

Mormons,  the,  86  ff.,  102. 

Mowry,  Sylvester,  159,  161. 

Mullan  Road,  the,  167,  170. 

Murphy,  Thomas,  Indian  superin- 
tendent, 312. 

Nauvoo,    Mormon    settlement    of, 

91-94. 
Navaho  Indians,  243,  368. 


INDEX 


399 


Nebraska,  movement  for  a  terri- 
tory of,  125;  creation  of  terri- 
tory of,  129 ;  boundaries  of,  138. 

Neutral  Line,  the,  21. 

Nevada,  beginnings  of,  156-158; 
territory  of,  organized,  158. 

New  Mexico,  the  early  trade  to, 
53-69;  boundaries  of,  in  1854, 
139 ;  during  the  Civil  War,  229- 
230. 

New  Ulm,  Minnesota,  fight  with 
Sioux  Indians  at,  236-237. 

Nez  PercS  Indians,  164,  363-365; 
precipitation  of  war  with,  in 
1877,  365-366;  defeat  and  dis- 
posal of  tribe,  366-367. 

Niles,  Hezekiah,  60,  79. 

Noland,  Fent,  42-43. 

No  Man's  Land,  357. 

Northern  Pacific  Railway,  375, 
376,  377,  382-383. 

Oglala  Sioux,  281,  291,  360. 

Oklahoma,  357,  386. 

Omaha,  cause  of  growth  of,  334. 

Omaha  Indians,  25. 

Oregon,  fur  traders  and  early 
pioneers,  in,  70-72;  emigration 
to,  in  1844-1847,  75-76;  pro- 
visional government  organized 
by  settlers  in,  79-80;  region 
included  under  name,  83-84; 
territory  of,  organized  (1848), 
85;  population  in  1850,  117; 
boundaries  of,  in  1854,  139; 
territory  of  Washington  cut  from, 
163 ;  railway  lines  in,  382-383. 

Oregon  trail,  70-85 ;  course  of  the, 
78-79;  the  Mormons  on  the, 
86  ff. 

Osage  Indians,  19,  20. 

Oto  Indians,  127. 

Ottawa  Indians,  27. 

Overland  mail,  the,  174  ff. 

Owyhee  mining  district,  165. 

Paiute  Indians,  murder  of  Captain 

Gunnison  by,  205. 
Palmer,  General  William  J.,  383. 


Panic,  of  1837,  43-44;  of  1857, 
51-52;  of  1873,  377-379. 

Parke,  Lieut.  J.  G.,  survey  for 
Pacific  railway  by,  207-208. 

Peace  Commission  of  1867,  to  con- 
clude Cheyenne  and  Sioux  wars, 
289-290;  Medicine  Lo&ge  trea- 
ties concluded  by,  292-293;  re- 
port of,  quoted,  296-298. 

Pennsylvania  Portage  Railway, 
325. 

Peoria  Indians,  30,  127. 

Piankashaw  Indians,  30,  127. 

Pike,  Zebulon  M.,  19,  34,  55. 

Pike's  Peak,  discovery  of  gold 
about,  141-142;  the  rush  to, 
142-145;  reaction  from  boom, 
145-146;  origin  of  Colorado 
Territory  in  the  Pike's  Peak 
boom,  146-155. 

"Pike's  Peak  Guide,"  the,  144. 

Plum  Creek  massacre,  250. 

Pony  express,  158,  182-185. 

Pope,  Captain  John,  survey  by, 
207. 

Popular  sovereignty,  doctrine  of, 
128. 

Poston,  Charles  D.,  159. 

Potawatomi  Indians,  26-27. 

Powder  River  expedition,  273- 
274. 

Powder  River  war  with  Indians, 
276-283. 

Powell,  Major  James,  283. 

Prairie  du  Chien,  treaty  made  with 
Indians  at,  20-21 ;  second  treaty 
of  (1830),  25. 

Prairie  schooners,  64. 

Pratt,  R.  H.,  education  of  Indians 
attempted  by,  351. 

Price's  Missouri  expedition,  233. 

Quantrill's  raid  into  Kansas,  231- 

232. 
Quapaw  Indians,  29. 

Railways,  early  craze  for  building, 
40;  advance  of,  in  the  fifties, 
51;  first  thoughts  about  a 


400 


INDEX 


Pacific  road,  192  ff. ;  surveys  for 
Pacific,  192  ff.,  197-203;  bearing 
of  slavery  question  on  trans- 
continental, 211-214;  Senator 
Douglas's  bill,  213-214;  land 
grants  in  aid  of,  215-218,  222, 
325,  329,  336,  375;  Indian  hos- 
tilities caused  by  advance  of  the, 
283 ;  description  of  construction 
of  Central  Pacific  and  Union 
Pacific  roads,  325-335 ;  scandals 
connected  with  building  of  roads, 
335;  description  of  formal  junc- 
tion of  Central  Pacific  and  Union 
Pacific,  336-337 ;  effect  of  roads 
"in  bringing  peaceupon  the  plains, 
347 ;  charter  acts  of  the  Northern 
Pacific,  Atlantic  and  Pacific, 
Texas  Pacific,  and  Southern 
Pacific,  375;  slow  development 
of  the  later  Pacific  roads,  376; 
the  five  new  continental  routes 
and  their  connections,  379-382; 
Northern  Pacific,  382-383;  Chi- 
cago, Burlington,  and  Quincy, 
383;  Denver  and  Rio  Grande, 
383-384;  disappearance  of  fron- 
tier through  extension  of  lines 
of,  and  conquest  of  Great  Ameri- 
can Desert,  384-386. 

Ration  system,  pauperization  of 
Indians  by,  352. 

Real  estate  speculation  along  west- 
ern railways,  333-334. 

Red  Cloud,  Indian  chief,  274,  281, 
283,  291-292,  294,  360. 

Reeder,  Andrew  H.,  governor  of 
Kansas  Territory,  131-133. 

Report  on  the  Condition  of  the 
Indian  Tribes,  286-287. 

Rhodes,  James  Ford,  cited,  128. 

Riggs,  Rev.  S.  R.,  239. 

Riley,  Major,  59-60. 

Rio  Grande,  struggle  for  the,  in 
Civil  War,  228-230. 

Robinson,  Dr.  Charles,  130 ;  elected 
governor  of  Kansas,  133. 

Rocky  Mountain  News,  the,  144, 
150. 


Roman  Nose,  Indian  chief,  309. 
Ross,  John,  Cherokee  chief,  241. 
Russell,  William  H.,  181,  182, 

185. 
Russell,  Majors,  and  Waddell,  firm 

of,  181. 

St.  Charles  settlement,  Colorado, 
142;  merged  into  Denver,  146. 

St.  Paul,  Sioux  Indian  reserve  at, 
19;  early  fort  near  site  of,  33- 
34 ;  first  settlement  at,  49. 

Saline  River  raid  by  Indians,  313, 
314. 

Salt  Lake,  Fremont's  visit  to,  74; 
settlement  of  Mormons  at,  96; 
population  of,  in  1850,  117-118. 

Sand  Creek,  massacre  of  Cheyenne 
Indians  at,  260-261. 

Sans  Arcs  Indians,  264. 

Santa  Fe~,  trade  with,  53-69. 

Santa  F4  trail,  Indians  along  the, 
20;  beginnings  of  the  (1822), 
56-58 ;  course  of  the,  64-65. 

Satanta,  Kiowa  Indian  chief,  306. 

Sauk  Indians,  21,  25,  26,  127. 

Saxton,  Lieutenant,  199,  201. 

Scandals,  railway-building,  335. 

Scar-faced  Charley,  Modoc  Indian 
leader,  367. 

Schofield,  General  John  M.,  232. 

Schools  for  Indians,  351-352. 

Schurz,  Carl,  policy  of,  toward 
Indians,  350. 

Seminole  Indians,  28-29. 

Seneca  Indians,  29. 

Shannon,  Wilson,  governor  of 
Kansas,  133,  134. 

Shawnee  Indians,  23-24,  127. 

Sheridan,  General,  in  command 
against  Indians,  310-323 ;  quoted, 
384-385. 

Sherman,  John,  quoted  on  Indian 
matters,  285,  289. 

Sherman,  W.  T.,  quoted,  143-144, 
298 ;  instructions  issued  to  Sheri- 
dan by,  in  Indian  war  of  1868, 
316. 

Shoshoni  Indians,  123-124,  295. 


INDEX 


401 


Sibley,  General  H.  H.,  228,   237- 

238,  362. 

Silver  mining,  157  ff. 
Sioux  Indians,  treaty  of  1825  affect- 
ing the,  21 ;  location  of,  in  1837, 
27;  surrender  of  lands  in  Min- 
nesota by,  49;  treaties  of  1851 
with,  123-124;  war  with,  in 
Minnesota,  in  1862,  234  ff.; 
trial  and  punishment  of,  for 
Minnesota  outrages,  239-240  ; 
bands  composing  the  plains 
Sioux,  264-265;  war  with  the 
plains  Sioux  in  1866,  264-283; 
lands  assigned  to,  by  Fort 
Laramie  treaty  of  1868,  294; 
sources  of  irritation  between 
white  settlers  and,  in  1870,  359; 
disturbance  of,  by  discovery  of 
gold  in  the  Black  Hills,  359,  361  ; 
war  with,  in  1876,  362-363; 
crushing  of,  by  United  States 
forces,  363. 

Sitting  Bull,  361;  career  of,  as 
leader  of  insurgent  Sioux,  362- 
363;  settles  in  Canada,  363; 
returns  to  United  States,  369; 
death  of,  370. 

Slade,  Jack,  182. 

Slavery  question,  in  territories, 
128  ff. ;  bearing  of,  on  trans- 
continental railway  question, 
211-214. 

Slough,  Colonel  John  P.,  229-230. 

Smith,  Joseph,  87,  90-93. 

Smohalla,  medicine-man,  365. 

Sod  breaking,  Iowa,  46. 

Solomon  River  raid,  313,  314. 

Southern  Pacific  Railway,  375- 
376,  379,  381. 

South  Pass,  the  gateway  to  Ore- 
gon, 70. 

Southport,  founding  of,  44. 

Spirit  Lake  massacre,  51. 

Stanford,  Leland,  220,  336. 

Stansbury,  Lieutenant,  survey  by, 
112,  113,  203;  quoted,  114-115 

Steamboats  as  factors  in  emigra- 
tion, 40-41,  49. 
2D 


Steele,  Robert  W.,  governor  of 
Jefferson  Territory  (Colorado), 
150,  152,  153,  155. 

Stevens,  Isaac  I.,  197-203. 

Stuart,  Granville  and  James,   168. 

Subsidies  to  railways,  222,  325,  329, 

375.  See  Land  grants. 
Sully,  General  Alfred,  268,  319. 
Surveys  for  Pacific  railway,  192  ff. 
Sutter,  John  A.,  104,  107-109. 
Sweetwater  mines,  301. 

Telegraph  system,  inauguration  of 
transcontinental,  185 ;  freedom 
of,  from  Indian  interference, 
283. 

Ten  Eyck,  Captain,  280. 

Texas,   railway   building   in,    375- 

376,  377  ff. 

Texas    Pacific    Railway,    375-376, 

378,  379. 
Thayer,  Eli,  129-130. 
Tippecanoe,  battle  of,  17. 
Topeka  constitution,  133. 
Traders,  wrongs  done  to  Indians  by, 

234-235. 
Treaties  with  Indians,  19-20,  123- 

124,    292-293;    fallacy  of,   348- 

349.     See  Indians. 
Tucson,  159,  160. 

Union  Pacific  Railway,  the,  211  ff.  ; 
reason  for  name,  221 ;  incor- 
poration of  company,  221 ;  route 
of,  221-222;  land  grants  in 
aid  of,  222  (see  Land  grants) ; 
financing  of  project,  222-223; 
progress  in  construction  of,  298- 
299,  301 ;  description  of  con- 
struction of,  325-335. 

Utah,  territory  of,  organized,  101- 
102;  boundaries  of,  139;  parti- 
tion of  Nevada  from,  157  ff. ; 
derivation  of  name  from  Ute 
Indians,  295. 

Victorio,  Indian  chief,  369. 
Vigilance    committees    in    mining 
camps,  172. 


402 


INDEX 


Villard,  Henry,  145,  182,  186,  382- 

383. 
Vinita,    terminus   of   Atlantic   and 

Pacific  road,  377. 
Virginia  City,  158,  168-169. 

Wagons,  Conestoga,  41,  64;  over- 
land mail  coaches,  178-179; 
numbers  employed  in  overland 
freight  business,  190. 

Wakarusa  War,  133-134. 

Walker,  General  Francis  A.,  285, 
349. 

Walker,  Robert  J.,  135. 

Washington,  creation  of  territory 
of,  163;  mining  in,  164-166; 
a  part  of  Idaho  formed  from, 
166-167. 

Washita,  battle  of  the,  317-318. 

Wayne,  Anthony,  8,  17. 

Wea  Indians,  30,  127. 

Wells,  Fargo,  and  Company,  186, 
190. 

Whipple,  Lieut.  A.  W.,  survey  for 
Pacific  railway  by,  206-207. 

White,  Dr.  Elijah,  75-76. 


White  Antelope,  Indian  chief,  256, 
260,  313.  ;  r, 

Whitman,  Marcus,  72,  77,  80-81. 

Whitney,  Asa,  193,  212. 

Willamette  provisional  govern- 
ment, 79-80. 

Williams,  Beverly  D.,  149. 

Williamson,  Lieut.  R.  S.,  survey 
by,  208. 

Wilson,  Hill  P.,  Indian  trader,  314. 

Winnebago  Indians,  26. 

Wisconsin,  opening  of,  to  whites, 
21 ;  territory  of,  organized,  44. 

Wounded  Knee,  Indian  fight  at, 
370. 

Wyeth,  Nathaniel  J.,  72. 

Wynkoop,  E.  W.,  255-259,  306, 
310,  312-313. 

Wyoming,  territory  of,  299,  302. 

Yankton  Sioux,  the,  25,  166,  264. 
Yerba  Buena,  village  of,  later  San 

Francisco,  105. 
Young,  Brigham,  93-94,  96,  97  ff., 

206;     made    governor    of    Utah 

Territory,  101-102. 


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venture succeeds  another.  .  .  .  The  illustrations  are  unique  and  of 
real  interest.  Readers  of  '  Pathfinders  of  the  West '  will  recall  with 
pleasure  the  same  quality  of  combined  scholarliness  and  vivid  human 
interest  that  distinguishes  the  new  book."  —  Chicago  Post. 


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THE   MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

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